Ten Things I Hate About You
by FandomFanatic7
Summary: Sam wants Gabriel, who can't date until his outcast older brother Castiel does. Now it's Dean's job to find his way into Cas' gaurded heart, and perhaps truely fall in love on the way. Highschool AU Destiel, Please read and review!
1. Highschool

High school

Sam looked around, taking in the high school scene and sincerely wishing he would find his place in it soon.

His father was constantly switching jobs but after moving to Kansas he promised his only son that they would both settle down. He even opened up his new auto mechanic shop just to prove how serious he was about staying this time. Sam felt both relieved and wary at this unexpected move, just praying it would stick.

Someone tapped his shoulder from behind, nearly scaring him out of his own skin.

"Crap dude," he said, whirling his large frame around to see who was so willing to talk to the new kid.

"Sorry," the boy said, tilting his head up slightly to look at Sam in the face. Since his growth spurt seven months ago, Sam hadn't stopped growing and was nearing the six-foot marker with no signs of stopping. He remembered the days of being scrawny with a grimace and was set on bulking up as much as possible. His Dad's defence lessons could only do so much anyways…

The boy scratched the stubble at his jaw and held out his hand, "My name's Chuck Shirley. I'm supposed to be your guide for the next couple of days."

"Sam Winchester," he said, shaking Chuck's hand and feeling a wave of relief crash over him. "God, I was worried they'd be sending me some art geek or something."

His guide gave a nervous laugh, "Geek? Heh, no geek here. Nope. Now come on, I'll show you around."

The two of them meandered their way through the throngs of kids, Sam trying and probably failing to keep up with all of the two second introductions and instructions Chuck was throwing his way.

"Jo over there's pretty cool but get in trouble with her and you're dead. Her mother's the principle and freaking terrifying…"

"Andy and Ava can't get their hands off each other, like rabbits trying to breed really…"

"Ash is the genius…"

"The brunette over there is Ruby. She's constantly getting high, so unless you want to get addicted to something-"

"Wait, wait!" Sam said, having caught sight of something interesting.

"Who's _that_ guy?"

Chuck followed his gaze, sighed and shook his head. "That's Gabriel Novak, trickster extraordinaire and one big pain in the ass. You swing for the other team dude?"

Sam cleared his throat, searching for a way out of the uncomfortable question. The last time he'd been open about his sexuality, it hadn't exactly gone well. Then again, if he ever wanted to know more about the lithe trickster he'd better just be straight about it.

"Yup."

Chuck nodded, "That's cool, tons of out people here... but you're out of your league there."

Sam's hope, which had just soared, suddenly felt crushed. "Why?" he asked, squinting in the afternoon light to get a better look at Gabriel Novak's shiny brown hair and mischievous smile.

"Three reasons," his guide said, marking each rationale with a finger. "One: He's a trickster at heart and doesn't take anything seriously. Two: None of the Novak's can date. Their family is like super religious or something. And three: There's a dick named Crowley who's after him."

The Winchester huffed in annoyance, his frustrations only pacified when his gaze settled once more on the object of his affections. How could he not try to get a guy like that?

Just as he was admiring the other student's body again, Gabriel's eyes flashed his way. His golden orbs settled on Sam's more muted brown ones and the two boys exchanged smiles. Well his was a smile; Gabriel's was more of a curious smirk. Sam made a motion to walk over when Chuck grabbed his arm.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, glaring at his only friend. In response, his guide only motioned over to where Gabriel stood now talking to another boy.

Sam took in the mysterious man's impeccable, black suit and did not like him at all. "Who's that?" he growled, bristling when Gabriel responded to the suit's obvious flirting.

"That is the afore mentioned dick Crowley," Chuck said, his own scowl set firmly in place. "He practically runs the school just 'cause he's got a couple of modelling gigs."

Sam shook his head; "I think I hate the guy already."

"You wouldn't be the first or the last my friend," his guide said, shrugging his shoulders. "Word to the wise though, there are plenty of people who love him too. He's rich, good looking and bi, which for him means he's basically ready to go hump any living thing in sight."

Sam sincerely hoped that Gabriel could see through whatever game Crowley was playing but judging by their flirty conversation, that wasn't happening.

The six-foot goliath was only just barely paying attention to Chuck's continued quick fire introductions as most of his focus was still trained on Gabriel's laughing figure. Crowley was still trying to talk him up and the sight ignited a fire down in his belly. Before he could further dwell on his hatred towards the teenager or his suit, Chuck was leading him over to another section filled with picnic tables.

As they neared one of crowded benches, Sam's guide seemed to straighten up and made a show of the flashy smile he had on his face.

"Ladies,Gentleman," Chuck said, nodding towards a group of students a year or two younger than themselves.

Their eyes flashed and the ringleader ground out, "bite me."

Sam quirked his eyebrow at his friend, "fans of yours?"

"I was their god yesterday," he huffed, "Just because I sent Darren to hell they're all angry. Well they wouldn't know creative genius if it went and bit them on their asses. And another thing-"

Deciding it best to intervene now, Sam cut across and asked, "Wait what? Who did you send to hell?"

"Darren," he explained, still shooting annoyed glares at the group. "He's a character of mine in this graphic novel I created. The school's publishing it but it's not really a big seller…"

"Hey that's pretty cool actually. What's it about?"

Chuck leveled a searching gaze on Sam, judging his tone before answering. "Two brothers on the road hunting monsters. You actually remind me of one of them…"

"Is it the one that went to hell?" he asked.

He laughed and shook his head. "No, the other one, Steve. He's enormous too."

Sam cuffed the writer's head, grinning. "Just means I'm well equipped."

"Yeah well, go and tell Gabe over there about your equipment," Chuck drawled, a slight smirk on his lips. "I'd love to see that conversation."

He rolled his eyes, gaze unconsciously darting back to the trickster. "I'll get to know him, just you wait and see."

His guide snorted again but conceded, "Well I hear he's looking for a French tutor."

"Seriously? Well that's perfect!"

Chuck raised his eyebrows in surprise, "Really, you speak French?"

"No," Sam said, not sounding the lease bit concerned at his lack of linguistic skills. "But I will."

His new found friend could only sigh and shake his head. Sam was smitten and determined, which was probably not a good combination but perhaps an interesting one at least.

Chuck cleared his straying thoughts and eased himself into a comfortable conversation with Sam as they walked around the school.

Who knew, this might end up making a good story in the end.

* * *

><p>Inside the school, Dean Smith had once again been sent to the school's erratic councillor Ms. Becky. He had never really liked her much, greatly disliking her greedy eyes as she drank the sight of him in. Still, he could usually bull through their encounters and simultaneously hide his discomfort<p>

Yet despite this, it only took a few seconds to begin regretting the actions that had landed him in the room in the first place.

"…And as he slid his hands up the other mans strong, muscular abdomen, trembling in a desire he knew to be so very wrong…" she whispered to herself, eyes closed as she typed away on her laptop.

"Shall I dim the lights," he joked, having no desire to listen further to her novel or fan fiction or whatever as his eyes darting around the room for an escape.

Her gaze landed on him with startling intensity and he shifted awkwardly from side to side. "Dean," she said finally. "Here to see me again."

"Only so we can share these moments together."

Miss Becky hummed, "I heard you expose yourself in the cafeteria today."

He sighed, recalling the incident. "I was fooling around with the lunch lady with the bratwurst."

"Ah, aren't we the optimist," she said with a sickly sweet smile, giving a rather pointed look at his private region. "Next time, keep it in the pouch."

Dean made a face, not at all enjoying the innuendos she was introducing. Usually he was the one with some sort of obscene comment up his sleeve and he most certainly did not enjoy being on the receiving end. Was this what girls called 'objectifying?'

Shrugging it off, he left the office and just wandered the halls. School had already been let out and most people were milling around outside, enjoying the warming weather. Dean was content to traverse the deserted corridors in the meantime.

* * *

><p>After school now, Chuck led his charge towards the parking lot, although the giant was a little distracted by a certain mischievous trouble maker.<p>

"Don't play it too cool dude," the writer smirked, "he might not realize you like him."

The jab and Sam's blatantly adoring look that he kept sending Gabriel was actually met by a halfway sheepish expression. "I can't help it, he's just so perfect."

"If you by perfect you mean shallow and self-absorbed, then yes, you could consider him perfect."

"No."

"Yes."

"No! You're wrong about him! He's deeper than that," Sam insisted, his eyes never leaving the tricksters form as he walked several metres in front of the duo.

Chuck rolled his eyes, fully knowing his friend was a lost cause. "Just calling them as a see 'em."

Sam just continued to shake his head in defiance.

As they neared the teeming lot, the enthralled boy had to watch with sad eyes as his new crush accepted a ride from his now most hated enemy... Crowley Donner.

The writer patted the giants shoulder as he strapped on his helmet, standing beside his small electric scooter. "No worries dude, he'll forget all about Crowley Donner in no time."

Sam nodded without conviction, standing aside as his friend mounted the scooter, sidling out of the parking spot.

Suddenly a car came rushing forward, honking loudly at the unexpected roadblock in their path.

"Could you move that damn contraption please," the driver shouted with an oddly polite edge, car horn blaring in annoyance. Chuck lifted his hand in apology and almost toppled over with the loss of balance. Obviously deciding his best chance of _not_ being run over was to just move out of the way, he jerked his small bike forwards.

The elderly car quickly rolled past and snaked out of the parking lot.

"You OK there?" Sam asked, having torn his eyes away from Gabriel retreating form long enough to take in the scene.

Chuck nodded, "Just a minor run in with the shrew. That's your love's brother, Castiel Novak, you know."

"What Gabriel's?" Sam asked in shock, not at all able to believe his sweet crush could possibly have such an irritable relation.

"Yup, so looking forward to the family dinners yet?" he asked with a wry smile.

Sam shoved him lightly and waved goodbye, finally deciding to head home now that Gabriel was gone.

* * *

><p>Sprawled across his couch, Castiel Novak was feeling particularly content as he read through the monstrous tome <em>War and Peace. <em>He was what most described as an odd boy. Up until a couple of years ago, Castiel had been the perfect son and brother to his family; he got good grades and followed orders to the letter. Since then however, he'd begun to rebel against both his family and society. So it really wasn't an unusual thing for his eldest brother Michael to come storming into the living room, anger and confusion lining his face

"What is this?" he asked, his voice struggling to remain even.

Castiel glanced at him, face expressionless. "Well Michael, it looks like an envelope but I suppose you're referring to what's inside the envelope."

His brother was obviously having a difficult time keeping his emotions in check at this point, "It's a letter from Cranbrook-"

"Cranbrook!" Castiel exclaimed, immediately leaping to his feet and snatching the paper out of his hands. He ripped it open and scanned the letter, quickly finding the sentence he was looking for.

"I got in! I got in!" he shouted, practically jumping up and down. Even Michael's crossed arms and scowl wasn't enough to stop Castiel's exuberance.

Raphael Novak entered the room to investigate the commotion his normally quiet and serious brother was creating. "What's going on here?" he asked, surveying the scene with interest.

"I got into Cranbrook!"

The two brothers frowned. "Isn't that that fancy art school in Michigan?" Raphael asked.

Michael added, "I thought we agreed you were going to the community college, become a Husky" with a half hearted fist pump.

"No, you two agreed," Castiel said sighing, his excitement finally fading. "I want to go to Cranbrook."

Raphael crossed his arms, "but it's thousands of miles away."

"Thus the basis of its appeal."

Before the two older brothers could begin their argument again, Gabriel walked into the feud with a lollipop lodged in his mouth. Seeing their scowling expressions, he promptly turned around to walk out again.

"Gabe!" All three brothers called before resuming glaring at one another.

The self-proclaimed trickster sidled into the room, masking his discomfort with one of his trademark grins. "Need anything chuckleheads, or just another target for your frowning competition?"

Judging by the withering glower Castiel sent him alone, Gabriel was pretty certain he'd be dead by now if looks could kill.

Then his face suddenly brightened and glint came to his blue eyes that scared all three of Castiel's brothers more than they cared to admit. Seeing as the maniac shine was currently focussed on Gabriel though, the youngest Novak was certain that his fear outweighed the rest.

"Michael, Raphael. Ask who drove Gabriel home today," Castiel said, a smirk on his dry lips.

His eyes widened in realization and he sent his own glare at his older brother for ratting him out.

"Now don't try to change the subject Cast- wait, drove? Who drove you home?" Michael began before quickly changing his attention to Gabriel, who looked like a deer in the headlights.

He blinked, composed himself and said in his most casual voice, "Nothing to be upset about Mikey, just this boy named Crowley Donner-"

"Who's a jerk," Castiel interjected.

Gabriel scowled at his brother and continued, "and who might actually like me."

"No, no. You know the rules; no dating in high school," Raphael said, shaking his head.

"But Dad hasn't been here forever!"

"Doesn't matter," Michael said, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "He's gone so we're in charge and we stand by his rules."

Gabriel groaned, tired of his families overly religious conduct. "Everyone else is dating!"

"Oh no they aren't. Your brother isn't."

Castiel nodded, "And I don't intend to."

"And why is that?" Michael asked, waiting for one of his favourite responses.

Castiel tilted his head, "Well I don't fully understand the concept of dating. Most of these feelings and urges are simply overactive hormones triggered by our pubescent state. These animalistic desires will start to fade as we begin to mature and at that time we are more able to make an informed decision as to our mate."

"Exactly," Raphael nodded, though he hadn't really listened to whatever oddly worded reason Castiel had come up with this time.

"It's like the Pizza Man," Castiel said, continuing to babble, "If he had truly loved her, then why did he slap her rear?"

All three brother's rolled their eyes at Castiel's musings. They had tried to introduce their more oblivious brother to the concept of porn as a way to avoid having 'the talk' with him. Unfortunately, he hadn't really understood the concept and was fixated on such details and morals. So instead, Michael and Raphael had just bought him a medical book on the process of sex, which led to the textbook answers they were now all doomed to hear from him whenever the topic came up.

"It's an idiotic rule, I can take care of myself," Gabe frowned.

Raphael opened his mouth to protest once more but Michael suddenly cut him off, an idea forming in his head.

"Wait! Old rule out, new rule in." Michael said, smiling. "You can date."

Gabriel grinned while both Castiel and Raphael's mouths dropped.

"When he does," he finished, pointing at Castiel.

"But what if he never dates! He's like some sort of mutant!" Gabriel demanded, chasing after Michael when he left the room.

The older brother grinned, "Then you'll never date. Ooh! I like the sound of that! And we'll talk about Cranbrook later," he added to Castiel.

"Fine," he responded, reclining back on the couch.

Gabriel huffed and turned to the source of his new dilemma. Castiel had maintained a neutral expression throughout most of the conversation, except for a slight, puzzled furrow of the brows.

"Can't you just go on one date? So I can finally have a life!"

Castiel frowned, "but I have no desire to date, I just said so…"

Gabriel let out another frustrated sound, climbing up the stairs to shut himself in his bedroom, unaware just how far someone was willing to go for him to get that one date.

And that person was Sam Winchester.

* * *

><p><strong>Hey! So this is my first SPN story and its plot is mostly based on the Heath Ledger movie <strong>_**Ten Things I Hate About You.**_** To clarify, this is a Destiel fic but it begins with a bit of Sabriel, so don't worry: our favourite couple is coming your way :D Anyways, please tell me what you think, do you like it, hate it, should I continue at all? Please leave a review as it is much appreciated!**

**-MesserMessa**


	2. Dating

**Thank you so much to everyone whose reviewed so far, you guys are awesome! Remember that I don't own SPN or TTIHAY- and without further ado, on to the story!**

Dating

Mr. Bobby Singer remained behind his podium, discreetly sizing up his class for the day. He sighed as he took in their rowdy, talkative manner and knew it would be a difficult group to control, as he was almost certain none of them were giggling over classic novels or literary devices.

With a final shuffle of his papers, Mr. Singer looked up to address his raucous students. "Everyone sit," he called using his most commanding tone. "Now, can I assume that you all completed your reading?"

The non-committal sounds and shrugs were answer enough for the veteran and he resisted the urge to heave a sigh. Just as he was about to return his attention back to his papers he caught the glint in a pair of fierce blue eyes that signified the owner was about to voice his opinion. Wanted or not.

"Mr. Singer, why are you objecting us solely to Hemmingway? Surely the works of Charlotte Bronte or Steinbeck would be much more beneficial to the young adult mind," Castiel pleaded from his seat, hands still a top of his desk.

"Hand please."

His student nodded in acknowledgment, "My apologies."

This time, Mr. Singer did sigh. He had spent many a class trying to drill the whole speaking out of turn issue into the young Novak's mind but it had never stuck. All he received was the same statement of apology over and over again. After a couple of months he had simply learnt to accept that it wouldn't happen, although he continued to try for appearances sake.

"I think it would be beneficial if you got that stick up your ass removed," Crowley sneered to Castiel's left, also ignoring the hand-raising rule.

He struggled to retain his scathing comment.

"Shut it ya idgit."

Ok, so maybe he hadn't struggled quite as hard as he could have.

Crowley deflated minutely; still sending leering glances at the student beside him. Castiel for the most part was able to stoically ignore his looks.

"Now I thank you Castiel for sharing your opinion, I realize how much courage it takes to voice them," Mr. Singer said, directing his gaze on the preening teenager. "But next time raise your damn hand and keep your opinions on my teaching methods to yourself."

Castiel opened his mouth in protest when the door opened unexpectedly. In walked Dean Smith, a mostly absent student who still managed to pull off decent grades.

"What I miss?" the green eyed youth asked breathlessly, scanning the room as if for anything worth his interest. His eyes flickered over to Novak when the teenager began to speak.

"Just the idiocy of a straight wing society suppressing those of unique thought and mind for their own political agendas," Castiel said with a huff, sparing the briefest of glances to the newest participant.

Dean nodded slowly, "Oh good," before promptly turning around and leaving the classroom.

"Hey!" Singer cried out, knowing full and well that the student was already gone in all senses of the word. Instead he directed his attention to the cause, "Castiel, Becky's!"

The normally witty student spluttered, "Wh- but why?"

"Because you just stole away an hour of Dean's education," was his retort, crossing his arms.

Castiel raised a brow, "but aren't you taking away _my _education by sending me away?"

Having no response to this, Bobby just repeated his early statement of "Becky's!"

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Sam sat alone in the school's library pouring over his French book during his one hour of coveted free time. As always, a few curse words came to mind as he tried to absorb the many and confusing verbs that made up the complicated language. If he could have just ten minutes with the guy who invented French…<p>

Of course he realized that that entire thought was ridiculous even as a rustling diverted his attention. Coming into the room was none other than Gabriel Novak and Sam was already feeling dizzy from lack of air.

Calming himself and attempting not to stare at the shorter mans lean muscles or his soft-looking hair, Sam awaited his arrival with as much patience as he could manage.

Gabriel soon swooped down on the table, sliding himself into the seat gracefully as he took a quick peek at the large wristwatch on his arm.

"So how long is this going to take? Because I have a little surprise planned for my good 'friend' Meg and I would really like to see it take effect."

Sam blinked in surprise although he really should have known better. He could practically feel himself falling for the trickster's mischievous nature even as he suppressed his grin.

"Not long," he assured the amber-eyed youth. "I thought we could just start with pronunciation"

Gabriel wrinkled his nose, "Already with the spitting and spluttering Sammy?"

"Don't call me Sammy."

"It's not that I'm questioning your choices Sammeroony-"

"Sam!"

"-It's just that French is really boring without all the drool too, you know Samsquatch?"

The six-foot something giant was about to protest to the newest nickname when he found himself laughing. Gabriel smirked at him but soon joined in with his own genuine smile and chuckle.

And Sam could definitely get used to that sound.

When he had caught his breath, Sam steeled himself for his delivery. "Well there is an alternative," he said somewhat shyly, barely meeting the other boy's golden orbs.

"Really?" Gabriel asked excitedly, tearing open the packet of MnM's he'd retrieved from his bag.

Sam watched the little candies disappear through his soft lips, almost groaning when a tongue flicked out to catch a stray crumb and bring it back into the warm cavern.

He cleared his throat, knowing his voice would be lower than normal otherwise. "Uh, yeah- ahem- French food? We could grab a bite at this nice café I know downtown."

"Are you trying to ask me out on a date?" Gabriel asked, his eyes widening in surprised as he reconsidered the boy in front of him.

Sam felt himself blush as he hurriedly explained, "Yeah I know your family doesn't really let you date but I figured if it was for school-"

"Wait Sam," Gabriel interrupted, his thoughts distracting the trickster enough to forget making up a new nickname for his tutor, for which said tutor was grateful. "My brothers just made a new rule… I can date, when my brother does."

His brown eyes gleamed as a grin broke out, "Wh- Really? That's great! Tell me, do you like sailing?"

Gabriel laughed, "Calm yourself my moosy friend!"

Sam raised his eyebrow at this one but allowed the other to continue.

"Castiel is a particularly hideous cross breed of prude and violent hermit, he's not going to be dating anyone anytime soon," he explained with a forlorn look in his eyes, still munching on some pack of candy or the other.

"Yeah, I noticed that," Sam conceded, "any idea why?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Gabriel replied, "unsolved mystery. He used to be pretty popular, hung out with Uriel and Anna a lot but then it was like he just got sick of it or something. Now he just talks to Pamela"

The newer student mulled this over before persisting with his earlier thoughts, "No, there has to be someone in the school willing to date him- it would be like extreme dating!"

Gabriel gave him a sceptical look, "Is there anyone _that_ extreme?"

"People jump out of airplanes all the time, I'm sure we can find someone to take Castiel to the movies," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand, his nonchalant actions completely opposing the whirlwind of doubt in his mind as he reflected on his own meeting with the shrew. He had secretly and impossibly been hoping it to be the last…

Sam couldn't help but think that the gratitude in the brunette's voice made it all worth it though. "And you would do that, for me?"

"Hell yeah!" he exclaimed before calming his exuberance. "I mean yeah, I could look into it."

He resisted another grin.

Barely.

* * *

><p>"All right, so I've gathered the most extreme seeking guys in the school for this," Chuck explained as the two friends descended a seldom used, gratified staircase.<p>

"Which are?"

"Azazel because he doesn't scare easily, practically demonic that bastard. And Lucifer's no better, probably worse actually. Russell's a good guy but he's tough. Gordon of course is piss crazy but Ash is awesome- just really, really weird," he replied, ticking each name off of his fingers.

Sam glanced at the writer, "And you're sure these guys are up for it? I mean it _is _Castiel."

"Believe me," Chuck assured, "if anyone would do it, these guys would."

After entering the little bunker, Sam observed the five guys standing opposite of them. He knew a few vaguely from his classes and he remembered thinking them to be all rather odd and frightening. Then again, he supposed you had to be pretty unstable to agree to date Castiel.

"So," he began, eyeing the five of them. "Would any of you be interested in dating Castiel Novak?"

Their mocking laughter seemed answer enough.

* * *

><p>"It's useless!"<p>

Sam pushed the door open, the bell jingling frantically at the extra force he applied. Chuck followed behind him, keeping a wary eye on his frustrated friend as they entered _Winchester's Auto shop; repairs and maintenance_ with bags slung over their shoulders. After a long day of interrogating possible candidates, the two had decided to throw in the towel for the day and it was rather obviously not sitting well with the giant. Still, the answers they had gotten weren't exactly promising- ranging from Azazel trying to deal drugs to Lucifer's cool smirk to Gordon thinking they were all vampires and trying to stake them.

"It's not useless," Chuck reassured him, glancing around the small entryway. When Sam had invited him over to his house, he had actually expected to enter his friend's dwellings. However, Sam had explained to him that since his Dad had put so much effort into opening the shop they hadn't had time to actually unload any of the boxes in their real living area. So, Sam spent most of his time in the waiting area and backroom of his workspace. Chuck didn't mind too much though, his friends had always been sparse and he liked the comforting feel of the place.

The writer continued to try and reason with him, "Look those are only five guys in the school, and there are hundreds more! We can definitely find one to date the love of your life's brother.

"He's not the love of my life," Sam replied, attempting a frown and failing miserably when a goofy smile came to his face at the thought of said love.

"Yeah whatever," Chuck said, rolling his eyes. "Point is there _is _someone!"

The two continued to bicker as they entered the backroom, which was decorated with plain office equipment and several comfy chairs to recline in before it opened up into the mechanics workspace.

John Winchester, spotting his son, wiped off the grease on his hands and walked over to greet him. "How was your day boys?" he asked eyeing his son's new friend with acute interest, especially now that he knew his sons sexual preferences.

John really didn't mind that his son was gay, it wasn't exactly ideal but he could live with it. Still, he couldn't help but look at every boy now with a bit of suspicion, wondering what exactly his intentions were with his child.

"Hey Dad," Sam replied. "It was fine. Oh and this is Chuck. Chuck, my Dad."

Chuck, feeling more than a little intimidated by the father's looming figure, stood up to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you Sir!"

Narrowing his eyes, John asked, a cold edge creeping into his voice, "So you and my son are an item now?"

Sam buried his head in his hands. "Dad," he groaned, "It's not even like that."

The writer's eyes widened almost comically and he stammered quickly, "Uh no Sir, we're just friends."

Taking in the mechanics impassive face, Chuck added, "And I'm straight."

After another moment of searching the boy's eyes, John finally nodded and smiled. "Sorry, I suppose I'm a little overprotective," he chuckled.

"You think?" Sam grumbled.

The late god of the MBA club offered his own weak laugh, although his legs were still feeling a little shaky.

"Well, it was good to meet you Chuck but I have a car to get back to," John said, the menacing tone from before completely gone. "Hey Dean! Get your ass over here and get me that goddamn part," he yelled as he strolled back into the shop.

A blond head of hair poked out from underneath a car, "I'm a little busy at the moment, get it yourself."

John and his newest employee continued to squabble like they'd known each other for years. The tension of a parental presence now gone, both Chuck and Sam leaned back into their chairs and opened up their biology books.

Sam watched Dean out of the corner of his eye, something about the tanned teenager seemed strangely familiar and it was beginning to bug him.

"Oh please don't tell me you're a crush whore," Chuck cried, snapping his book shut as he faced his friend.

The giant blinked, "A crush whore?"

"You've been staring at Mr. Mechanic over there for the past five minutes, have you already forgotten your epic quest for Gabriel's heart?"

"Mm, Gabriel," Sam hummed, a dreamy look coming onto his face as he looked off into the middle distance. Finally coming back down to reality though, he shook his head. "No crush slut here, just the guy looks really familiar."

Chuck rolled his eyes, "Well he should- we did _just_ have biology with him last period. That's Dean Smith,"

Sam gave him an appraising look. The teenager was definitely handsome, his skin now shiny with sweat from toiling away on cars. He had short blond hair and lean, tan muscles that stood out on his arm. In all, he was very attractive though not really Sam's type. Well, really his type only consisted of brunette tricksters at the moment but he couldn't help but be picky.

Still, it gave him a rather good idea.

Turning his gaze back to Chuck, Sam's smirk slowly grew into a rather maniacal grin. His friend groaned and shook his head, "no way dude, I'm not getting into it with Smith."

He pouted a little, "Why not?"

"He's a criminal! I heard he once ate a live duck and that he lit a state trooper on fire. Then last year he spent a year in San Quentin- a year!" Chuck whispered as if afraid Dean would hear him over the sounds of car repair.

Sam smirked, "Well at least he's horny."

Chuck faked a laugh before continuing, wild gestures accompanying his frenzied words, "He sold his liver on the black market to get a new pair of speakers!"

Another look at Dean's determined face had decided it for the boy. Tapping his pen on the paper he had been scribbling on, Sam leaned back and proclaimed, "He's our guy."

Chuck face-desked.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow you guys spoil me, ten reviews already! That's amazing, probably the best response to a story of mine yet :) ah you, my readers, make me happy, so I thought I'd try to make <em>you<em>happy with this chapter. Tell me if I succeeded or what I need to work on in a review please! It really motivates me and your cursers almost at the button anyway XD**

**-MesserMessa**

**P.S. And let's not forget that the next chapter shall be the first real meeting of everyone's favourite boys Cas and Dean! Click the button to get some Destiel action faster :P**


	3. Deals

**Disclaimer: I do not own TTIHAY or SPN and am not profiting from my writing. *sighs* sucks though 'cause I'm broke :P**

Deals

Meg reclined next to her friend (whom occasionally entailed benefits) as they watched their high school kingdom from the bleachers. She and Crowley were both surrounded by people, some of which they liked and others that were too annoying to even look at. Still, all the assembled were popular and had therefore earned the right to be in their presence. Really though, it was Crowley's company they had all worked towards but Meg was arrogant enough to include herself in that equation.

"Looking good there," the suited model beside her called as his eyes took in Gabriel's form with hungry eyes. The brunette and his friend Ruby giggled at the attention and quickly traded conspiratorial whispers with each other. Meg just frowned.

She had never liked Gabriel, thinking him and his pranks to be irritating, especially when she was on the receiving end like the other day… her car would never be the same. All he had succeeded in doing was stealing away Crowley and Meg desperately needed him for her social status- though she'd never tell anyone that.

"He's out of your reach, even for you," she drawled, pretending to be uninterested in the whole affair.

Crowley rounded on her with an icy gaze, one that made her shiver. "No one's out of my reach," he said with confidence.

She quirked a brow and suppressed the anger that almost surged up. "Really? Because I heard he can't date until Castiel does and we all know why he won't…"

Meg's comment infuriated Crowley and in a rare display of emotion, he blatantly glared at her until she shrunk away.

"No one is out of my reach," he reiterated, already running through different schemes in his mind as he continued to stare at the desirable body of Gabriel Novak.

* * *

><p>Dean Smith was not one for school. The whole idea of it was really lost on him; the hours spent studying material that was of little to no use to everyone. It was frustrating, especially as the only class he actually enjoyed was wood shop.<p>

Luckily he was there now.

So really he should have been enjoying his precious time within the aromas of fresh sawdust and the sounds of metal on wood. Yet, his mind was plagued with thoughts he'd really rather not be having at the moment.

It was those damn dreams again.

Dean had been having the same dreams for weeks now and it was really starting to get to him. It always started the same way too: A shadowy figure seducing him forwards, her curvaceous hips practically beckoning him to touch. Unfortunately, as soon as he _did_ touch, her breasts would flatten and the shape would streamline until he was faced with a man.

The truly horrendous part though was that Dean- or at least Dream Dean- didn't seem to really mind. On the contrary, Dream Dean seemed to be _thoroughly_ enjoying himself as his hands slid down the unknown man's chest, nipping at his lips before travelling farther and farther south until…

No! He was straight. He had always been straight, ever since he was a kid he'd been chasing after girls.

So what had changed?

Dean honestly didn't know and it was getting more and more aggravating. He could obviously appreciate another guy's looks but that didn't make him… gay… did it?

His thoughts were now completely out of control so Dean shook his head and tried once again to concentrate on his work. He was supposed to be building an ornate clock for his end of unit project. So far it was going rather well but he had wanted to finish drilling some holes into its surface today. He sighed as he looked at his progress, deciding that he might actually need to stay a little late for this.

A small cough from beside him sounded just as he was about to resume the drilling process. Turning around in annoyance, Dean ended up face to face with two boys that he remembered vaguely as being in his biology class.

He levelled his most unimpressed glare at them, holding his power tool out in order to create some space between them. One of them was taller than Dean but he was still fairly certain he could take the guy in a fight if need be.

He could see the scrawnier of the two visibly gulp and had to fight off a smirk; intimidating the weak was one thing he was quite proficient at. Still, the taller boy didn't seem nearly as frightened as he clutched his French book and began to speak.

"Uh, hello. My name's Sam and this is-"

Dean, already tired of the conversation as he was still having a small freak out over his sexuality crisis, decided to cut it short. Flipping the small switch on his drill, he began to bore through the small book until the tool passed through.

Fear flitted across the giants face and he yanked his book away from Dean's mercy. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he mumbled something unintelligible and almost tripped over his own feet hurrying away from the 'psycho with a drill.'

Said psycho watched the two boys stumble away with little amusement now, his thoughts already leaving the strange encounter to ponder his dreams once more.

As he began to harden at the memory of the shadowy image from his subconscious, Dean groaned and resolved that he needed to get laid soon.

He just wasn't sure which gender he really wanted right now.

* * *

><p>Chuck eyed the book's gaping hole with a look of concentration on his ashen face. Behind him, Sam leaned against a pillar. The cafeteria was filled with words and laughter as the students enjoyed their lunch period and Chuck was doing his best to ignore the noise around him as he thought through their problem.<p>

"Well that didn't go very well," he said finally, looking up at Sam.

The boy snorted and spun a chair around to sit in it, "Yeah I'd say so- what are we going to do?"

"Give up on Smith?"

"Chuck-"

"Alright, alright," the writer said, dismissing Sam's coming reprimand with a wave of his hand and a small smile. Now returning to the problem, he frowned and considered their options.

"Well," he began, "we tried asking him and I think it's obvious that he's not going to do it out of the goodness of his heart."

Sam sent him a glare at his useless comment and contributed to the conversation, saying, "We could pay him… but we don't have any money…"

Chuck nodded, an idea suddenly coming to him. "What we need is a backer," he exclaimed, already searching the crowd of people for a possible candidate.

"What's a backer?" Sam frowned.

"Someone with money, who's stupid," the writer explained, his eyes lighting on a dark suit from across the cafeteria. "Or arrogant."

The lovesick teenager followed his friend's gaze and shook his head, a glare already residing in his eyes. "No way! I am _not_ getting Crowley into this."

Chuck rolled his eyes, "Calm yourself Sam. While he's busy setting it all up, you'll have your chance with Gabriel."

He was still hesitant but the shorter boy was already standing up and striding over to the crowded table across the room. Vaguely, he could hear Sam calling out his name but he chose to ignore it. Right now, he needed to concentrate all of his courage on not turning around and fleeing the scene. After all, this would be his second conversation with an intimidating bully today and he wasn't sure he'd fully recovered from the last one yet.

Taking a deep breath, Chuck sat down at the only empty seat at Crowley's table. The suit was recounting his most recent conquest to the guys at his table.

"And she was moaning my name like a whore so I added another finger and-" he had been saying before his cold eyes caught sight of the newest addition in his group. "Sorry, are you lost?"

Chuck ignored the warning in the other man's voice with sweating palms, instead reaching over the table to motion to Meg Masterson's lunch. "Is that a peach fruit rollup? Now, you don't see that often-" he commented before his hand was slapped away by the blond girl. She scowled at him and he shrunk away.

"Actually," he said, clearing his throat as he faced Crowley's confused, aristocratic features. "I just wanted to chat."

The model shook his head and his eyes squinted in suspicion, "Sorry we don't chat."

"Just hear me out," Chuck insisted, voice rising an octave in distress. Taking the boy's silence as an acquisition, the writer decided to launch into his proposition. "I've noticed that you've been after Gabriel Novak lately but his family's kind of crazy and now he can't date till Castiel does right?"

"Is there a point to this conversation?" Crowley asked with a bored air to him. The suit suddenly whipped out a large marker he had hidden somewhere and grabbed Chuck's face with his other hand. As he waited for the geek to continue, he began to draw on his cheek.

Chuck, though extremely frightened by this turn of event, continued in his pitch. "Well, it seems what you need is to hire someone to take Castiel out. A guy that doesn't scare so easy- and I think I know the perfect person for you," he said as Crowley finished drawing on his face. "Dean Smith."

Leaning back, Crowley allowed his gaze to sweep over the cafeteria until they landed on the unexpected subject of their conversation. From the distance he was sitting at, it looked as if Dean Smith had pulled out a large knife and was scratching a drawing into the table. His punk friend then grabbed the knife and quickly hid it as a teacher neared their spot. Dean hadn't looked the least bit concerned at the thought of almost getting caught.

"I heard he ate a live duck once," Crowley commented, feeling a little wary of getting involved with Smith.

The geek nodded, still looking at Dean with an undisguised mixture of fear and awe. "Everything but the bill and feet," he said before finally turning back to him, "Clearly, he's a solid investment."

Crowley considered the boy in front of him, recognizing the obvious thought that had gone into his choice of suitors for Castiel. "So what's in it for you?" he asked, cynicism laying thickly in his voice.

Chuck blanched at the question but immediately composed himself and thinking quickly, answered, "Hey, when I'm in the halls and I say hello, you say-"

"Yeah, yeah, you're cool by association," Crowley finished, eyes already returning to appraise Smith more seriously.

Finally, Crowley said, "I'll think about it."

The writer smiled, and leant back in his chair as he bopped to non-existent music. If he was at the cool table and alive, he might was enjoy it for as long as possible.

Obviously that wasn't long though because Crowley then commanded, "Ok we're done here."

"Oh right!" Chuck agreed, jumping up and offering his hand to the boy who ignored it with a cold indifference. Seeing that no one was willing to shake hands with him, Chuck gave them a thumbs up before turning around to make his way back to Sam's anxious figure. Only once he was a about 10 feet away from the intimidating table did the dork breath a sigh of relief for being alive.

"How'd it go?" the giant asked.

Chuck gave him a wane smile, his mind nearly shutting down as he fully realized the amount of social, physical and mental danger he had been in minutes previous. "We're good."

* * *

><p>The next day Crowley was clad only in sweats and a t-shirt as he jogged in gym class, which was the only possible reason why he would shed his favourite suited look. He had been thinking over the nameless losers request all night and had finally and grudgingly admitted it was a good one. Far better than any of the other plans he'd come up with unfortunately. And though Crowley was proud, he wasn't an idiot.<p>

So as he spotted the slouched shape of Dean Smith in the football stands, he quickly made his way over to him.

The model resisted wrinkling his nose at the stench of cigarette smoke as he neared the rebel and his friend with the Mohawk. Now that he was closer, Crowley was even able to admire the other boy's body. If the guy wasn't a social reject, he might have even tapped that…

Back to the matter at hand though, Crowley stopped in front of the two of them and cleared his throat to get their attention.

"Hey Smith," he said, "How you doing?"

Dean bared the boy the briefest of glances before turning away.

Not one to be ignored, Crowley tried again. "I, uh, had some great duck yesterday."

"Do I know you?"

"See that boy?" the model responded with instead, pointing to someone practising soccer behind them.

Dean wasn't sure exactly what was going on but was curious enough to humour the dick head in front of him and looked to where he was pointing. He sucked in a breath when he saw the lean body running down the field.

All he said however was, "yeah?"

"That's Castiel Novak and I want you to go out with him."

Dean guffawed, shocked by the odd, forward request. Beside him, his friend Scurvy snickered. "Yeah OK Sparky," was the blonds reply.

Crowley frowned, not at all liking the attitude he was receiving. "You see, I want to take his brother out but his father's screwed up in the head and has this rule-"

"That's touching," Dean cut in, "Really, it is, but it's not my problem."

"What if I can make it your problem?"

Quirking his eyebrow, Dean reassessed the dick in front of him. It was well known that Crowley was rich and Dean could do with making some extra money. John Winchester was a great employer and all but until he had mastered more of the skills needed to assist a mechanic, his pay was seriously lacking.

"I'm straight dude," he said slowly even though a strong part of him was beginning to disagree with that statement. Still, he wanted to see how the prissy boy in front of him would respond.

"I don't see the problem," Crowley returned. "I can pay you generously and I'm pretty sure you would appreciate a good fuck from anyone. And believe me, Castiel can put out when he wants to."

Dean didn't like his twisted smile or what he was suggesting, and felt his stomach swoop in a sickening fashion. His eyes flickered back to where Novak was playing soccer and couldn't stop himself from wondering how he could have even gotten involved with someone like Crowley.

"So you're going to pay me to take some dude out?" he asked for confirmation.

"Mm hmm."

Dean considered all of this and realized that he was really far less opposed it than he should have been. Would a straight guy agree to pretend to be gay for some money? And be slightly excited about it too?

Alright, Fabio," he finally said. "How much?"

"Twenty bucks."

Just then a grunt was heard from the field and they both turned to witness Castiel aggressively pushing another man down in order to regain the balls possession.

Crowley winced and amended, "Ok… thirty."

"Let's think about this, shall we," Dean said, standing up with a glint in his eye. "I take him to the movies, that's 15 bucks. We'll get popcorn of course, so that's about 53. And then he'll want Raisonnettes, so I say we're looking at a good 75 bucks."

Mind turning over his counter offers, Crowley finally settled with, "Forty or we're done trailer trash."

"Fifty or I walk Princess."

Hating to lose the upper hand in a deal but unable to counter now, the model nodded and pulled out a bill.

The contract now written, both boys parted to go their separate ways.

* * *

><p>Dean lay in wait, watching for when the boys soccer team would conclude their practice and he could have the chance to speak with the boy he was suppose to now date.<p>

He didn't really know much about Castiel, except that he was a social outcast and had been known to beat up a couple of people if they messed with him. That alone had earned Dean's respect although he couldn't help but think that there was something more to the mysterious boy. It was actually quite alarming how willing he was to take out a male just to get to know him.

Dean attempted to stress the point once again that he was _not_ gay.

The part time mechanic immediately perked up, however, when Castiel said quiet goodbyes to his team mates and wandered over to the bench Dean was standing near to gather his stuff.

The blond straightened his posture and let his most charming smile sweep over his features before sauntering over to him.

"Hey there stud, how's it going?" he said, surprised at how naturally the compliment came out. The guy really was one though, his arms were sweaty from practice and the sheen sent Dean's blood rushing south almost immediately.

Dean cursed the boy for getting this sort of reaction out of him before his inner dialogue was cut short.

Castiel looked up at him in that moment and Dean felt his breath being stolen away, spellbound as he was in the boys deep blue eyes.

The soccer player seemed unperturbed though, if only mildly confused. He tilted his head and replied, "Sweating like a pig actually. And you."

Dean blinked. "Well isn't that a way to get a guy's attention."

"My mission in life. It seems as if I've struck your fancy though so obviously it worked," Castiel shrugged, "and the world makes sense once again."

Digesting this comment, it took a few seconds for Dean to realize that the boy was walking away from him so he hurried to catch up.

"So I'll pick you up at seven then?"

Castiel laughed, "Yeah, sure, seven, mm hmm. Do you even know my name screw boy?"

Dean plunged his hands into his pockets, again very aware of how little he knew about the guy he was risking his sexuality for. "I know a lot more than you think," he said instead though, silently praying that that didn't sound too weird. For some unknown reason, Dean wanted to make a good impression on Castiel although it didn't seem to be going over so well.

"Doubtful, very doubtful," the blue-eyed boy said with a shake of his head, finally outpacing Dean as he stopped his pursuit.

He shook his head and couldn't help but think that girls were so much easier to deal with, especially considering how indifferent he usually was to them. This time, he actually cared about the others answer and it was completely throwing off his game.

Dean let the rejection wash over him and strengthen his resolve. He had a feeling he'd need it for this one.

* * *

><p>Having watched their man's utter failure to woo Castiel, Sam couldn't help but feel a little hopeless at the situation.<p>

"That's it," he declared. "We're screwed!"

Chuck shook his head at him, "I will not have you have that kind of defeatist attitude around here. I want to hear you upbeat."

"We're screwed!" Sam amended in fake cheerful voice.

"There you go!"

Sensing his friend's glare on him, Chuck continued, "Well maybe he just needs some help."

Sam nodded, "a lot of help."

* * *

><p><strong>Ha third instalment! Actually I <strong>_**just**_** wrote this because I've been putting it off almost all week in favour of catching up on my schoolwork. I want to say thank you so much to everyone who's reading and reviewing, hopefully you all enjoyed this chapter. If you did or have some advice/criticism I would really appreciate hearing from you! Maybe using that handy review button ;) From this point on, there will be a lot more Dean and Castiel I think. So if you want that update faster… REVIEW!**

**-MesserMessa**


	4. Cars

**Hello lovely readers, thank you again to anyone who's favourited, alerted or reviewed this story. It means so much and hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter enough to continue reviewing :D And without further adieu, onto the story! ... plus I don't own SPN...**

Cars

Castiel had decided to disregard the incident with Dean Smith as a fluke, a mere mistake of the Universe. An odd one, but a mistake none-the-less.

It was a well-known fact that the rebel was straight and Castiel had seen him on more than one occasion with some tattooed girl or the other. He wasn't one to judge but it seemed as though Smith was just looking for a good lay and had eventually decided to broaden his horizons.

What really surprised him was that he had chosen Castiel to experiment with. There were quite a few single, out guys at the school and almost all of them were better looking or at least better tempered than he was. Maybe the guy had a kink for social outcasts though, who was he to really say.

All of these conclusions just made the shock of seeing the object of his musings that much more pronounced when he walked out of the CD store to see him leaning casually against his elderly car.

Castiel stuffed the receipt he'd been checking back into his bag of purchases and marched up to the boy.

"What are you doing here? Are you stalking me too?" He snapped, pulling out his keys sharply and thrusting them into the lock. He'd basically shoved Dean out of the way to get to the drivers door but the teenager had moved without complaint.

"What? No!" Dean exclaimed as he raised his hands up as if to ward off an attack. Perhaps with good reason too.

Castiel snorted, "Really? So you just happened to be here?"

"I was at the Laundromat, saw your car and I thought I'd say hi. By the way, your fenders might need fixing."

He allowed his irritation to seep into his reply "Well hello. And my fender's are fine, thank you very much."

"Not a big talker are you?" Dean asked, obviously amused.

"Depends on the topic," the Novak said, leaning against his car door for the moment. "My fender's don't exactly whip me into a verbal frenzy."

Green eyes noted the more relaxed pose the other boy had adopted and inwardly grinned, taking this slightly less hostile stance as a success. Dean almost wanted to point out the fact that he was still allowing the conversation to go on but restrained himself at the last second.

"Well what will whip you into a verbal frenzy?" he asked instead.

"Certainly not you."

Dean threw back his head and laughed; ignoring the cold look he was receiving from the boy he was supposed to be wooing. "You're not afraid of me are you?" he asked, smiling softly but genuinely perplexed.

"Afraid of you? Why would I be afraid of you?" Castiel frowned.

An unexpected feeling bloomed deep in his stomach as Dean watched the boy's brows furrow in confusion, his head tilting slightly. He looked… so… adorable. That was really the only word to describe it but Dean attempted to overlook the butterflies for his sanity's sake.

"Well most people are," he confided, whispering just so he could lean forward to the intoxicating boy.

But that didn't make him gay.

Castiel scoffed and turned to open his car door.

A moment of panic washed over him and he quickly placed his hand on the door to prolong their conversation. He tried to force a seductive smile on his face and winked, "Well maybe you're not scared of me but I bet you've thought of me naked before."

"Oh, am I that transparent? I want you, I need you, oh baby oh baby," Castiel retorted, his voice distorted by sarcasm as he feigned a swoon.

Despite the other boy being sardonic, Dean's brain stalled for a moment when the gravely tremor said the words 'I want you.'

Still not gay though.

While his thought process fought to get back on track, Castiel had already opened the car door and gotten inside. The assistant mechanic knew when to retreat and took a step back to allow him to go when a bright red convertible pulled up the street.

The music was blaring and the driver parked right behind Castiel's junker, preventing him from pulling out. Dean took in the suit the driver was wearing as he exited the car and immediately identified him as Crowley.

"What is this, asshole day?" Castiel cried. "Do you mind?"

Dean frowned but ignored the comment.

Crowley just strolled by the irate boy and said, "Not at all."

He scowled, sitting there with clenched fists as he watched the suit walk by. Finally, his agitation seemed to overwhelm the blue-eyed boy and he put his car into reverse, backing into the convertible hard enough to make a rather large dent.

A grin quickly found its way onto Dean's face as he observed the damage the boy had caused. He had only known Castiel for 48 hours but he was fast becoming one of his favourite people ever.

"You bitch!" Crowley shrieked as he came barrelling out of the store he was in.

He just smiled sweetly, "Oops."

* * *

><p>"Oops?"<p>

Castiel looked up at his brother Michael as he towered over him, clutching a piece of legal paper. He could see Raphael behind him as well, a similar scowl adorning both of his brothers faces.

"What are we going to tell the lawyers? Oh yeah, our little bro was too busy pulling out the rulers to watch where he was driving?" Michael cried, truly exasperated by his younger brother.

Raphael shook his head, "Seriously Cassie, Dad isn't going to be happy about this."

He marked his place in the book he was reading and sighed. His brothers really were right and the more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he became. He had allowed Crowley to get a rise out of him and had therefore let the other boy win. Usually, he was much better at controlling his emotions than this.

It must be Dean Smith's fault; the boy had been getting under his skin since they'd first met. He had probably annoyed him to the point where he'd have run over almost anyone's car.

Still he couldn't tell his brothers this so instead he opted for, "Then tell them I had a seizure."

Michael sighed, running a hand over his face. "Cassie, are you punishing us because of Cranbrook."

"No."

"Then what's this about?"

"You not letting me live my own life for one," Castiel responded with a glower.

Raphael shook his head, "Oh no. You don't know what you want in life yet, and when you do know, you'll be too old to get it. That's the circle of life Cassie."

"I want to go to an art school!" the younger brother said, jumping up in his passion. "I want to become an artist, I want you to trust me and I want you to let me make my own decisions!"

The two older Novak's shared a worried look, unsure of how to respond to the emotion in his voice.

After waiting a moment for some sort of reaction and not receiving one, Castiel huffed and grabbed his keys. "I'm going for a drive," he said and left the room before anyone could stop him.

* * *

><p>Across town, Sam and Chuck were preparing themselves for yet another encounter with Dean Smith, though not exactly enthusiastic after the last experience. This was probably why they had both agreed to approach the ill-tempered man in a safer environment. Namely, the <em>Winchester's<em> auto shop, where they knew he worked and where John Winchester would be in screaming distance should they need him.

As they waited for Dean's shift to end- John would kill them if they interrupted his employee's valuable time- Chuck excitedly told Sam the details of his graphic novel.

"-Then Jeff actually gave _up_ his soul so that Darren would come out of his coma but just before he let Ezekiel take him to Hell, he told Darren a secret. Except I didn't let the audience know what it was just yet to build the suspense, you know? Anyways, it turns out the Ezekiel actually has plans for Steve because he's the chosen one that supposed to lead Hell's army-"

Sam laughed, "Take a breath there, Chuck, just because your characters can die and come back to life all the time doesn't mean you can too."

"I know that," the writer said with a dismissive wave of his hand, obviously not considering his need for oxygen to be very important. "Its just there's so much that's happened in the series and I don't usually get to tell people about it."

"Well I'd love to hear all about it," Sam said kindly before his eyes caught sight of a head of blond hair. "But later, because it's now or never here."

Chuck stood up but made sure to stand behind the six-foot frame of his friend, preferring a buffer between himself and the notorious rebel. He wasn't necessarily cowardly; there was just an overdeveloped sense of self-preservation after going through high school solo for so long. That and the guy was scary as hell.

They followed the assistant mechanic into the shop's waiting room, where they had planned their 'confrontation' to take place. Sam, as confidently as possible, walked up to the now greasy teenager and tapped him on the shoulder.

Sam could see the surprise flit across the other boy's face and took the lack of anger as a good sign, quickly launching into his hook.

"We know what you're doing, with Castiel Novak."

Dean raised a brow, covering up the shock he felt as best he could as he casually wiped the grease from his fingers. "Oh really?" he asked, wondering how much the two boys knew. He remembered their strange attempt at talking to him the other day and speculated that this was what they had been trying to say.

Chuck spoke up from behind the taller one, "Yes and we're here to help."

"Why would you help?" Dean frowned.

"You see, my man here, Sam, has got the major Jones for Gabriel Novak."

Again with Gabriel, Dean thought with a shake of his head. "What is it with this guy?" he asked, "Does he have a beer flavoured cock or something?"

"Hey," the boy named Sam said, taking a threatening step towards him only to be restrained by the other one.

"I can assure you that Samuel's love is pure. Purer than say, Crowley Donner," Chuck interjected quickly.

Dean shrugged, "Look, Crowley can plough wherever he wants- I'm just in it for the money."

"There will be no ploughing!"

Chuck calmed Sam down slightly before returning his attention to Dean once more. "Crowley is just a pawn in all of this, we set it up. Sam is supposed to get the girl."

The part time mechanic reassessed the two boy's determined looks and grudgingly admitted some respect for their plotting. "So you're going to help me tame the wild beast?"

"We'll gather research and then report back. It'll be good to have some guys on the inside."

Dean nodded, listening as the two explained their situation further.

This was getting complicated.

* * *

><p>Castiel was angry.<p>

He rarely felt this emotion actually, having a fairly stable mindset in general. Yet all he could feel right now was his fury.

Anger towards his brothers and Crowley. Anger towards himself and most importantly, towards Dean Smith.

God, how he loathed him.

Though, he had looked pretty good in those jeans earlier…

His blue eyes widened as he realized what he'd just thought. There was no possible way he could be attracted to such a chauvinistic, arrogant boy.

Just as he was beginning to panic, Castiel heard an ominous rumble being emitted from his car and with reluctance he realized that Dean was right about his fenders. Ramming into Crowley's car probably hadn't helped either.

Castiel glanced around his city surroundings and thanked the Lord when he saw an automobile shop still open, steering his vehicle carefully into the _Winchester's _small parking garage.

He exited his car and hailed down a bulky man sporting a black beard.

"Excuse me Sir, would you be able to help me with my car?" he asked politely.

The man looked him over and laughed, "Well this is an automobile shop, isn't it? 'Course I can, what's your problem?"

"My fenders I think," he shrugged. "But I honestly don't know enough about cars to be certain."

The man, who he assumed was Winchester, walked over to his car and surveyed the damage. "Definitely a fender problem," he said sagely, bending down to further scrutinize the predicament. He swiped his finger across the metal and inspected the appendage.

"This is red paint. What have you been bulling your car into lately?" he asked, turning suspicious, if not amused, eyes on the boy.

Castiel shifted his weight, embarrassed yet again. "Uh, just a mild run in with a jerk."

Winchester laughed and the teenager decided that he liked the man well enough. Finally he stood up again and said; "Well I don't think we can get you in today but we could probably have it ready for tomorrow. My name's John Winchester."

After shaking hands and exchanging names and pleasantries, John continued, "Now Castiel, if you want to just go in to the waiting area down there, I'll come by in a minute and give you an assessment. My employee should be there if you have any other questions. You might want to call someone to pick you up though."

Castiel nodded and pulled out his cell phone, only debating for a moment before pressing his speed dial and calling his good-and probably only- friend Pamela.

Pressing his phone to his ear, he waited for the girl to answer. "Hello?"

"Hey Pam, do you think you pick me up at 141 Yellow street? My car broke down and is in the shop right now."

Pam laughed on the other end. "You're going to trust the girl who's about five years away from being legally blind to drive you?"

"Better than my brothers."

"Ok, I'll be there in five."

"Thanks, Pam. You're the best," Castiel said, smiling.

"Don't I know it."

Hanging up the phone, Castiel walked through the small door John had pointed to earlier. As he entered though, he froze at the sight that greeted him.

The Universe just had to be working against him.

* * *

><p>Dean had been listening attentively to the two boys explanation (the other boy's name he'd found out was Chuck) when they both halted, their eyes focussing on something past him. Frowning, he turned around to see what had captivated their attention.<p>

He felt his heart literally skip a beat as he saw Castiel standing there, his wide blue eyes adopting a deer in the headlights look. Warmth seemed to sweep through Dean and he couldn't help the blazing smile that came to his lips.

"Cas," he breathed, the nickname coming out unconsciously. Behind him, Sam and Chuck seemed to have decided the best course of action was to sidle out of the room so they did just that. Which meant that Dean was alone once again with the irritable brunette.

"What did you just call me?" Castiel asked, apparently regaining some of his composure.

Dean flushed. "Um, Cas?" he said uncertainly. "Sorry, it just sort of slipped out."

"Well don't call me that. And why are you still stalking me?"

Dean raised a brow. "Um, I'm pretty sure you're the one who came to my place of work."

The boy blushed and looked at his shoes, "My fender's out."

"Hmm," Dean smirked. "That's interesting, isn't it?"

"Shut up."

Dean sauntered over to the brunette, ignoring the stiffening in the other boy's posture as he invaded his personal space. He couldn't stop staring at his lips, as the sudden need to kiss Castiel seemed to crash over him and his voice sound far lower than he liked to admit when he next spoke.

"So, are you going to go out with me yet?"

Castiel looked up at him with defiance in his eyes and Dean found himself dragging his own eyes up to get lost in their blue depths.

"No," was all he said.

Dean opened his mouth, unsure of what he was going to say next when the door to the shop swung forward and John Winchester entered.

Sam and Chuck, who had been watching the exchange from a safe distance, groaned.

"Ok, it should only cost fifty dollars with the insurance you told me about, so if you want to-"

The man suddenly stopped as he took in the closeness of his employee and customer, his eyes narrowing.

Dean quickly took a step back and said, "Well have a good evening, John. I'm going home now."

John nodded and waited for him to leave before continuing his explanation of the price to Castiel, his dark eyes still questioning as he watched the faraway look the boy had adopted.

After having his name put into the computer system along with all of his information, Castiel waited outside for Pam. He revelled in the clear, cool air and allowed it to focus his mind, which was hopefully far away from Dean Smith.

Eventually, Pamela pulled into the driveway with the same reckless enthusiasm she employed whilst doing most everything. Of course, it was a little more frightening knowing that she was doing most of this with less than perfect vision. How she even got her license was a mystery to Castiel, and one he was comfortable not knowing if her shifty eyes were anything to go by.

"Hop in!" she called and he almost reluctantly entered the vehicle. Maybe this had been a bad idea…

"So may I ask why you were going out for a drive 'round these part when you broke down?"

Castiel shrugged, "Got in a fight with the family."

Pam gave her best friend a worried look. He wasn't known to show much emotion in public but she knew he could rant to her forever about his brothers.

"What's wrong? Something else is bothering you," she stated.

He sighed, "Nothing. It's just this guy."

"Is he giving you trouble?"

Her tone was dangerous and Castiel had to smile at the protective quality to it. He knew she would do anything for him but he shook his head, "Not really, he just keeps asking me out and-"

"Wait, wait!" she called, swerving a little on the road much to Castiel's dismay. "A guy is asking you out and you're upset! This is good news!"

He shook his head, keeping a firm hold on the dashboard. "No, Smith is a jerk and obnoxious and-"

"Smith!" she squealed, her driving getting more frightening as her excitement mounted. "But he's a complete stud! Didn't know he was gay though…"

"That's just it, I don't know if he is or just looking for a good time. I just don't know why he keeps asking _me_."

"So he's asked you out more than once?"

"… Well kind of three times…"

Castiel covered his ears as Pamela squealed again, bouncing in her seat as they neared the Novak's household.

"You have to say yes!" she said as she parked the car, turning towards her friend.

He rolled his eyes. "No he's a jerk. Besides, who would take you to Prom?" he asked with a kind smile.

She waved her hand dismissively and said, "Oh don't worry about me. Promise you'll think about it though."

Castiel hesitated but finally nodded his consent as he left the car, leaning into the window when she called him back.

"Do you need a ride to school tomorrow?" she asked.

Shaking his head, Castiel told her he'd walk and the two friends parted ways. Luck seemed to finally be with him as he was able to sneak into his room without alerting his brothers. However, fortune left him quickly as his dreams that night featured those same green eyes that seemed to be following him everywhere lately.

The Universe really did hate him.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry this is a little late! I promise to stick to the schedule a little better; I just got a little overwhelmed with work and all. So for those of you who know TTIHAY, I've actually diverted from the story line a little here. Don't worry, I'm not cutting anything vital, it'll all come in good time ;) I'm actually considering giving you an early update if enough people review. So if you'd like that or just want to offer your feedback- which I'd also love!- please hit that review button! And if anyone has an idea for a story (one shot or otherwise) I'd love to hear it and hopefully make it a reality :D Either way, please. please REVIEW!<strong>

**-MesserMessa**


	5. Learning

**So I've decided to update a little earlier than ususal, please enjoy! **

Learning

_Heated hands ran over his body, sliding down his bare chest and prodding at his ribcage. He could feel their moist breath as it ghosted by his ear, a careful tongue probing the lobe_

"_Cas," a man's husky voice whispered._

_And only one person called him that._

Castiel bolted upright on his bed with shaking limbs as darkened green eyes slowly faded from his vision. Looking down at his morning wood, the teenager rubbed his eyes with a frustrated growl. The ache between his legs begged for release but Castiel was fairly certain he couldn't do that without thinking of blond hair and jade eyes, so he resisted. Instead he grabbed his sketchpad for a quick doodle before heading into his bathroom.

After emerging from a cold shower, he caught his first glimpse of the sheeted rain outside and dark clouds crowded above.

Castiel sighed as he resigned himself to the long, thirty-minute walk to his school, already regretting not making plans for Pamela to pick him up. Even with the rain that poured outdoors, the young Novak refused to accept any of his brothers offers to drive him. God only knows what they'd want to talk to him about once he was cornered in a car.

So it was with great surprise that Castiel walked out of the front door to see a gleaming black car parked outside his house, the rain making it shine with an ethereal polish. It seemed to be waiting for him so he approached with wary steps.

Low and behold when Dean Smith exited the grand vehicle, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face as he looked at the already drenched Castiel.

"Beautiful weather we're having this morning, wouldn't you agree?" he asked, a smirk curling his lips as rain continued to fall around them.

Castiel glared at him before shouldering his bag and trudging past the mocking boy with a determined look on his face.

As he passed Dean though, the blond reached out to grab his arm. "Wait," he said to Castiel's wet back. "Let me drive you."

Slowly he turned around, "Why?"

Dean blinked. "Well it's kind of raining," he coughed, pointing upward at the darkened clouds.

Castiel attempted to push by him once more only to be stopped again by the more muscular boy.

"Look, I know your car's still getting fixed and with the rain I just thought you'd appreciate the drive. So I found your address in the shop's logbooks and came over here."

Castiel hesitated now, weighing his seemingly sincere voice with the trepidation that years had taught him to have with boys.

Finally, he sighed and nodded.

The grin on Dean's face could have split it into two as Castiel warily climbed into the passenger seat of the car. The assistant mechanic slid into the vehicle as well and started it, a smooth purr coming to life as he glided it onto the road.

"What kind of car is this?" Castiel asked suddenly, not really sure why he was willingly starting a conversation with someone he hated.

Dean beamed at the question though, patting the dashboard lovingly. "It's my baby, a 67 Chevy Impala. I restored it myself."

OK, even the soaking, ill-tempered boy had to be impressed with that. He remembered the period where his father had tried to stamp the gay out of him by introducing boyish activities such as cars and sports. None of them had really interested him much though as he really preferred to just read. Still, during that short time of strained male bonding with his father, Castiel had begun to appreciate the amount of skill and effort that went into building cars.

"That's pretty cool," he said, looking out the tear-streaked window as he was now at a loss for words.

Luckily- maybe- Dean filled the void.

"What's your favourite colour?"

"Blue," Castiel answered, startled into giving his automatic reply.

"Favourite food?"

"Hamburgers. What is this?" he countered, truly bewildered by the sudden interrogation.

Dean smiled, "Good choice and I want to get to know you better. Siblings?

"Five," Castiel said. "Gabriel's younger although sometimes he seems to treat me like I'm the baby of the family. Then there's Anna and Uriel, they're both off in college. Raphael and Michael are the oldest and they take care of Gabriel and I. My father's not around much."

Dean seemed impressed. "Damn. I'm an only child, I don't know if I could deal with all of those brothers and sisters. I mean there's this one kid who keeps annoying me," he said, thinking of the younger giant Sam, "and he seems to fit the role of annoying little brother but besides that…"

The blue-eyed boy laughed, finding himself enjoying his conversation with Smith so far. "Colour?"

When Dean gave him a questioning look, he pointed an accusing finger at the blond. "Hey, if you get to bombard me with questions like the Spanish Inquisition then I should receive the same and equal opportunity."

"I love the way you talk, Cas," the other boy chuckled, continuing before Castiel could reprimand him for using the nickname again. "Colour would probably be green and food is definitely a good cheeseburger."

A reflective look came onto his face for a moment before the rebel amended, "That or apple pie. Love me some apple pie, maybe with a good helping of whip cream."

Castiel laughed again, almost regretting that they had reached the school. It still surprised him that he was having a halfway decent conversation with the most irksome boy he knew. It had actually been quite enjoyable…

"Although I could think of some better uses for whip cream, if you know what I mean."

…And yet…

Scoffing, he allowed a disdainful look to fall upon his face as Castiel hastily left the car.

Dean also exited the Impala and stood facing him on the opposite side.

"You," Castiel said, his voice shaking slightly as his anger mounted, "are the most lewd, obnoxious, irritating, childish, arrogant boy I have ever known!"

He smirked, "but you love me anyways."

"Ugh!" he cried, throwing his hands up into the air, as he was unable to fully articulate the annoyance he felt. He stalked away from the boy, trying to ignore the fact that green eyes were most assuredly on his ass.

_Not like I care anyways, _he thought, his hips natural sway becoming just a little more pronounced even as he tried to convince himself.

* * *

><p>Dean tilted his head a little to the left, allowing himself the best possible view of Castiel's round ass. It really was a thing of beauty, the hypnotic sway of his hips making the blond bite his lip in desire.<p>

He supposed he had to admit now that he was gay, at least for Castiel. How could he not be, what with the dreams that had been plaguing him for so long. Especially as they were now featuring a certain blue-eyed boy with mussed dark hair…

Dean shook his head and strolled into the school, slowing his pace to ensure he would be just a little bit late.

Just as he was entering the school however, Dean felt himself being jerked back by a forceful arm. Surprised, he turned around to face Crowley's leer as the shorter man attempted to look intimidating despite his rather obvious challenge vertically.

"When I shell out fifty bucks, I expect result," he sneered. "And watching that little bitch maul my car doesn't count as a date."

Dean sighed, already regretting agreeing to work with the model. "Right I'm on it."

"Good, 'cause if you don't get any action, then I don't get any action and I really want a good lay. So either you climb up on that or give me back my fifty."

He hadn't always been known as a nice guy, hell most people thought that he was a jerk, but Dean was practically bristling as he listened to Crowley's derogative speech. His anger was spiking and he had to restrain himself from socking the sodding midget, especially when images of Castiel's warm smile flashed through his minds eye.

He couldn't let Crowley know any of this though and certainly not of his developing feelings- and God wasn't this just a lovely chick flick- so instead he said, "I just doubt my price."

"Well you can forget about getting anymore money for Novak."

"Well then you can forget about getting his brother," he shot back, giving his most cheeky smile.

The suit gave a dark laugh, already reassessing Dean. Pulling out his wallet and selecting another twenty, he said, "You better be as smooth as you think you are."

He took the bill, flashed a smirk and turned to leave.

* * *

><p>Sam and Chuck were contemplating their next move, especially after the spectacular disaster that had occurred at the auto shop.<p>

"He's not going for Dean," the taller of the two sighed as he rested his head on the library table they were currently sitting at. "How can I ever date Gabriel if the jerk doesn't make Castiel swoon into his arms?"

Chuck shook his head, thoughts spinning in circles as he attempted to find a solution. "We need to find them some mutual ground to work with, somewhere neither will have the advantage."

"Well where is that?"

Just as Chuck was about to respond, a piece of balled up paper hit him square on the nose. He recovered from his shock quickly and unfolded the message to reveal large, black letters that read, "Give us Darren or die! –E&H"

Sam frowned as he scanned the note over his friends shoulders, "Your adoring fans again?"

The writer scowled and the shredded the paper. "Ed and Harry again, they say they're my biggest fans and they were none too happy when I killed Darren off temporarily."

"Whoa, wait! Temporarily? Being sent to Hell seems pretty permanent to me."

Chuck allowed an evil grin to cross his features. "Oh no, I've got some ideas. Speaking of which…" he trailed off, his eyes brightening as an epiphany suddenly appeared. "I know where our mutual ground is!"

"Yeah? Where's that?" Sam asked, raising a brow.

"Ed and Harry have this weekly Ghost Facer's meeting where they discuss the supernatural and how to hunt and stuff. A real geek exclusive. Though with a few flyers and some rumours about free beer, I bet we could turn into a hell of a lot more fun."

Sam grinned, "Dude, you're a visionary."

"I know. I'm practically a prophet really."

* * *

><p>After tossing several hundred flyers down the school hallways, Sam decided that some time with his favourite guy was definitely necessary. So pulling out his phone, he sent a quick text to Gabriel.<p>

**Hey, what're you up to? :) -Sam**

**Not much, just bugging the hell out of Mr. Zechariah. You know, if you aim it just right, you can hit his bald spot with a spitball :P -Gabriel**

Sam laughed and punched in his reply, his large fingers stumbling on the keys in his haste.

**Well if you don't have detention for the next month, want to hang out after school? Park? -Sam**

He only had to wait another moment for the trickster's response.

**I'd love to, meet me there at three -Gabriel**

The grin on Sam's face wouldn't leave for the life of him.

* * *

><p>At three, Sam had a hard time keeping the necessary, platonic distance between himself and Gabriel. This was especially difficult whenever the mischievous boy would smirk or laugh or breath and all Sam wanted to do was to kiss those lips.<p>

"So are you going to Ed and Harry's party?" he asked, trying for nonchalance.

"I really, really want to," Gabriel said with a frown. "But you know I can't go. I'll be grounded forever if I sneak out after last time."

Sam quirked a brow, asking, "And what exactly happened last time?"

The grin Gabriel sent him was truly frightening. "Nothing really," the shorter boy said, a twinkle in his eye. "Although Mr. Zechariah's car has never quite recovered."

He laughed before growing serious again. "Well I'm working on getting you out but so far your brother isn't going for my man. He is gay right?"

"Well I once found a picture of Robert Pattinson in his drawer so I'm pretty sure he's not harbouring opposite sex tendencies," Gabriel smirked.

Sam adjusted to this new information. "So that's what he likes? Pretty guys?"

"I don't know! I just remember him saying he'd die before he dated someone who smoked."

"Okay," Sam nodded, making the mental note, "No smoking. What else?"

"You're asking me to delve into the twisted inner workings of my older brother's mind? I don't think so," Gabriel replied, shaking his head.

The giant ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Well nothing else has worked, we need to go behind enemy lines here!"

Gabriel worried his bottom lip, an act that was not at all ignored by Sam. "Alright, I suppose we can go check out his room and see if anything's there."

A grin quickly found it's way onto Sam's face as he realized he was going to get to see the trickster's house. Needless to see, the moose like boy couldn't drive fast enough.

The two teenagers were now rifling through the neatness that was Castiel Novak's room, being extremely cautious not to disturb anything in case he should notice.

"Okay, so we have concert tickets, drawings, more tickets, more drawings." Gabriel huffed, "God, my brother's boring."

Sam grinned at the other boy's agitation. Suddenly, he caught sight of something on the bedside table.

"Hey, look at this," he called, eyes already on the paper he had gingerly picked up. It was quick sketch of two green eyes, peering up with a luminosity of hidden emotion. For what looked like a spur of the moment drawing, it was quite good and Sam was definitely impressed by the artist's talent. What really excited him though was the familiarity of those eyes, and the implications behind Castiel sketching them.

From behind him, he heard Gabriel ask, "Is that your guy then?"

Sam nodded.

"Well that's good," the honey-eyed boy said cheerfully, already opening and exploring the drawers of his brother's nightstand.

"Aha!" he said, pulling out a small tube. "Lube!"

Sam felt himself flush a bright red as he gazed at the bottle. He had to clear his throat several times before he was able to manage in a stuttering voice, "Uh, m-m-maybe we should stop n-n-n-n-now then." He was sure his ears were crimson by this point.

Gabriel laughed and winked at him, which didn't help the heat at his collar at all, before putting the lube back. Their mission complete, the two boys walked out in companionable silence.

That is until Sam asked, "So can I see your room?"

"Ha! You wish."

* * *

><p>Whilst Gabe and Sam danced around each other in their battle of wits and will, Castiel was extremely confused as to why he was both dreading and strangely excited to pick up his car after school.<p>

_It's just because you want to get back on the road_, he thought to himself, ignoring the flutter of nervousness in his belly. What was he, a teenage girl?

He opened the door to Pamela's Ford and climbed into the passenger, briefly wondering if he would survive another round with her dangerous driving.

She glanced at him surreptitiously, judging his mood before asking, "So when do I get to meet Smith?"

He spluttered. "You don't! And why would you want to anyways, it's not like we're dating."

"I never said you were. Defensive much?"

He harrumphed, crossed his arms and pouted, all the while feeling very childish. Especially considering Pamela's victorious grin.

"Just drive," he said, trying not to sound too sulky. "Slowly."

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Yes mother."

When they arrived- safely, thank God- at the _Winchester's_ auto shop, Castiel was unfortunately unable to convince his friend to wait in the car. Instead she followed him into the small waiting area with a large smile plastered on her face, just waiting for the chance to embarrass him Castiel was sure.

Almost immediately upon entering, Dean came bustling through the door with a hopeful look on his face. This only intensified when he saw the occupants of the room.

"Cas!" he said happily, "You came!"

He rolled his eyes. "I kind of have to get my car Dean. Of course I came."

This didn't seem to affect the mechanic though as his grin widened and he winked. "Bet that's not the only thing you came to ride though."

"Oh he's a keeper," Pam laughed, nudging Castiel as his face reddened from both embarrassment and anger.

"Now come on over here and help a blind girl out," she continued, pretending to search the air with her arms like she couldn't see. "I want to see what you look like."

Castiel could barely contain his smirk, knowing his friend's ruse.

Dean, however, did not and seemed a little unsure about what to do. He hadn't noticed the girl previously because his gaze had been on Cas but she was obviously a friend of his so he obliged. Plus she seemed to be blind.

Pam ran her hands over his face, her eyes carefully controlled to look unfocused over his shoulder. Quickly, she allowed her fingertips to drop and explore his chest and arms, humming her approval. Dean was growing more and more uncomfortable at her wandering hands. Particularly when the 'blind' girl reached behind him and gave his ass a generous squeeze.

He wouldn't admit it if asked but Dean yelped at the contact and jumped away from the brunette. After hearing a low, gravely laugh, the blond turned his attention to the mirth filled blue eyes across the room.

Looking between the two laughing friends once more, he finally managed, "What the hell?"

"She's not really blind, not yet anyways," Castiel said, wiping his eyes. "It's just a hoax she uses to feel guys up. I keep telling her it's morally wrong but I think she's losing her sense of ethics quicker than her sight."

Pamela grinned, unabashed, "Mama's gotta get herself something, somehow."

"Yeah well, know where Dada can get himself a restraining order?"

Castiel laughed again, about to say more when John Winchester came through the door. His sharp eyes quickly analysed the situation and deemed it much lighter than whatever tension had been going on between his employee and customer yesterday.

Fishing for a pair of keys in his pocket, he said, "Hey Castiel, your car's all fixed up and here are your keys back."

"Thank you so much Mr. Winchester," The Novak said, smiling as he accepted the offering. "Have a nice day."

"And you too," John responded, briefly looking up from the papers he'd busied himself with to shake the boy's hand.

Pamela went back out to the parking lot to collect her car as Castiel entered his own vehicle, sincerely grateful that he didn't have to risk life and limb with his friend anymore.

Just as he was about to back out of the garage, Dean strode over and leant into the opened window.

"You know," the blond said, "You never wished _me_ a nice day."

Castiel smiled sweetly at him. "Sorry Dean, I don't lie."

Feeling his pulse rush a little at his taunt, the blue-eyed boy ignored Dean's smirk and quickly pulled out of the shop.

He really wasn't sure why he felt so light about the whole supposed ordeal.

* * *

><p>The next day found Sam on perched precariously on the back of Chuck's motorbike as they rolled up to a bar called the Roadhouse. The two students couldn't help but look around the light and din of the place in some sort of awe, having never entered such a sacred dwelling to adults.<p>

Inside, Sam was just about to reach for something in a jar on the counter when Chuck slapped his hand away exclaiming, "Careful! You might get hepatitis."

He simply shrugged his friends antics off and scanned the room, quickly spotting a head of blond hair at an otherwise deserted pool table. Still gazing around, they approached him slowly.

"Hey," Sam called in way of greeting.

Dean's head snapped up, his green eyes softening slightly as he took in the two awkward, out of place figures. Taking a sip of his beer, he asked, "So have you dug anything up then?"

Just as Sam opened his mouth, he was interrupted by Chuck's nervous query, "I'm sorry but should you really be drinking alcohol without a liver?"

"What!"

"Nothing!" Sam said, sparing a quick glare in the writer's direction. "So we've done some recon on Castiel. He's into classic literature, horror films and punk music. Here's a list of his CD's."

Dean read through the list, frowning at the odd album titles he didn't recognize. Why couldn't everyone just have his love for classic rock?

"And there's one more thing that might be a problem," Sam said, apprehension filling his voice. "He likes… pretty guys."

Dean glanced between the two scrawnier guys, his eyes narrowing slightly. Several heartbeats past as they both squirmed.

"Are you saying that I'm not a pretty guy?"

Sam balked at the statement and Chuck spluttered.

"Of course not!"

"No, I just thought-"

"He's a very pretty guy!"

"Oh yeah, yeah."

Pacified, Dean relaxed as he reread the list again, waiting for the two younger boys to compose themselves once more.

Finally he looked back up at them and raised a brow. "So I've just got to brush up on my Salinger and listen to a bunch of guys who can't play their instruments right?" he asked.

"Well have you ever heard of Club Wendigo?" Chuck countered calmly instead.

Dean's eyes widened as realization hit him. "No," he said, shaking his head forcefully, "I can't be seen at Club Wendigo."

"Your favourite band's playing there tomorrow."

The mechanic looked from one boy to the other, noticing the straightening in their posturing and realizing that he was not going to get out of this.

He sighed. He'd never been to a gay club before.

* * *

><p><strong>Ooh, gay club time! I've never been in one before (obviously, underage teenage girl here!) so it'll be interesting to write. Anyways, if you've enjoyed the story so far or have any criticism, I'd love to hear from you in a review! It would most definitely make my day :) Also I'm still taking requests for any SPN one-shots you have ideas for, so you can leave a review or PM me for that. Anyways, thanks for reading so far and if you would like that update on time- REVIEW!<strong>

**-MesserMessa**


	6. New Connections

**I'm so sorry this is late! Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter though :)**

New Connections

Dean had never felt quite so uncomfortable as he did now, standing in the darkened hallway of Club Wendigo. Around him there were couples exploring each other and making obscene noises that should really be left to the bedroom.

Of course he was also completely out of place and conspicuous in his green button down shirt and worn out jeans. The sneakers and lack of eyeliner probably didn't help either.

Still, Dean made the valiant effort of pushing through crowds of dancing men. He even went so far as to grudgingly admit to himself that the band playing wasn't too bad. Obviously no Led Zepplin, but not bad.

His eyes scanned the crowd and were inexplicably, though not surprisingly, drawn to a head of dark brown hair. For a moment, he stood still amongst the gyrating bodies and observed the man.

Castiel had on a black v-neck t-shirt and what looked like some tight grey jeans. The normally uptight, standoffish teen had shed his inhibitions and was dancing without reserve. Dean felt a warm smile worm its way onto his face as he watched the honest dancing and swaying of his hips, almost becoming hypnotized by the movement.

The confidence he was exuding was absolutely captivating and Dean found himself unable to look away.

A hand snaked out from the crowd to land on one of Cas' black clad shoulders and for a moment, Dean felt a hot stab of jealousy. It was with relief that he realized that it was only Pamela, one of the only females in the club. The girl was going even more all out in her dancing than Cas, obviously having decided that the lack of straight men was her chance to act as crazy as she actually was. Dean, despite being groped by her, felt a sort of fondness for the brunette.

Eventually, he made his way over to the bar to wait for Cas. Chances were he'd emerge for water sooner or later in the heat of the club.

"Hey Smith!" A voice shouted from the bar. Turning, Dean caught sight of the man who called his name.

"Balthazar?" he questioned, sliding into a stool. "Since when have you been a bartender?"

He shrugged as he wiped down the counter, "Since my love for alcohol and rather blatant need for funds became apparent. What are you doing here though, I thought you were straight."

The blond man seemed a little put out, especially seeing as he had asked Dean out on more then one occasion last year when they had met out on the road. Dean had actually picked up Balthazar while he was hitchhiking and had given him a ride to Ohio. He had been road tripping for the summer and had felt bad for the guy, stranded as he was.

Eventually they had gone their separate ways but remained friends whenever their travels led them together again.

"I am straight- well 99% straight," the green eyed man admitted.

Balthazar smirked, seeming to understand the conundrum. "So where's this 1%?"

* * *

><p>"I need agua!" Castiel shouted over the music, fanning himself slightly in the stifling heat of the club. He saw Pam nod before she disappeared back into the crowd to more than likely grope some unsuspected guy.<p>

He chuckled lightly at his friend's antics before making his way over to the bar.

"Two waters," he ordered from the attractive blond bartender. He was about to consider to hitting on the guy when he noticed another head of blond hair beside him.

He felt anger bubble up as he asked, "What? Are you still following me! Well if you're going to ask me out again, you might as well get-"

"Sorry, you're kind of ruining this for me," Dean shouted over the volume, almost immediately dismissing the irate boy beside him.

Castiel frowned, "You actually like this?"

"They're no Metallica or AC/DC but sure, not bad."

The brunette laughed, "I should have pegged you for the classic rock kind of guy."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing," Castiel smirked, "you've just got the 'Highway to Hell' attitude down."

"It's all about the blaze of glory babe," Dean winked. "So what are you?"

"Pardon?"

"What song?" he reiterated with a wild gesture between the two of them. "If I'm 'Highway to Hell,' then what are you?"

Castiel thought for a minute, bit his lip and then finally replied, "I'd be 'Imagine'."

He grabbed the two waters that Balthazar had placed out for him and headed back into the crowd.

Dean gaped after the brunette, something close to awe swelling up inside him at the emotion and sincerity he had felt in that one word. Castiel was a mystery, an intrigue of hidden depth and good intentions buried under a tough interior and a sharp wit.

Balthazar caught his expression and snickered, making shooing motions. Dean didn't need to be told twice and he put down the beer he had ordered quickly in order to follow the blue-eyed conundrum.

Luckily, he hadn't gotten far as Castiel stopped to watch Pamela's shameless dance moves. Some of which were approaching R rated quite fast.

Dean squeezed his way through the crowd to stand next to him, also observing the girl's wild movements. He knew it probably was the worst place to start a nostalgic conversation but he couldn't help his curiosity.

"So how did you two become friends?" he shouted over the punk song.

Castiel smiled slightly at the memory, "I used to pretty popular back in the day but I- I lost it. I didn't really want the parties or the status anymore and a lot of people gave me crap for that. One day I was getting a particular shit load and Pamela just stopped in the middle of the hall and told the jerk to 'stick it where the sun don't shine.'

Dean laughed and thought it was most definitely something Pamela would do.

"I'd never even spoken to her before," he continued, still speaking loudly over the music. "I didn't even know her name. But she stuck up for me when no else would and she did it without hesitation. I don't think she even realizes how much it meant to me. We've been friends ever since."

There was a sort of strain in those blue eyes. After watching his face for another moment, Dean decided it was far too reflective for a club scene.

He cleared his throat. "Well you're no Pam the Dancing Man," he shouted, gesturing to the brunette, "but I was watching you before and I've never seen you so sexy."

Unfortunately, luck was not on his side and it was at that precise moment that the song ended and allowed everyone to hear his out of context sentence. The men around them laughed and whistled before returning to the music as the band struck up another song.

Dean ran a nervous hand through his cropped hair and was glad to see that Castiel was chuckling, although a blush was apparent even in the shifting lights of the club. He had never seen someone so beautiful before.

"Go to Ed and Harry's party with me," he asked, hope and nerves and guilt racing through his body.

Castiel, returning to his normal colour, shook his head and smiled. "You never give up, do you?" he questioned as he began to make his way back to Pam.

"Was that a 'yes'?" Dean called.

"No."

"Well then was that a 'no'?"

"No."

Dean grinned, quite enjoying the implications behind that one word. Maybe he was getting through that thick skull after all. "I'll pick you up at nine then?" he yelled.

A pale hand waved from the crowd in a non-committal gesture that Dean immediately decided _was_ a 'yes.'

* * *

><p>It was late when Dean finally made it back to the small apartment his family rented above Colt's Grocers. He unlocked the door and opened it quietly; tip toeing over to his cramped room. He was almost there…<p>

"Where have you been boy?" a slurred voice asked from the single dingy armchair in the room.

Dean froze as he recognized his father's tone of voice. He allowed his shoulders to slump in a position he knew wouldn't offend. "Sorry Sir," he replied and tried to fight off the snide resentment that was creeping into his voice. "It won't happen again."

James Smith wasn't an idiot though and despite the large amount of alcohol he had consumed he recognized the disobedience that flavoured his son's tone.

"Are you being funny with me now? Acting all high and mighty 'cause you got a job now?" his voice rising with every word. "I won't let no son of mine disrespect his father!"

He lurched forwards but was unable to find his footing, his wild swing missing completely as Dean sidestepped him. The teen let a well place blow fall on his father's head, effectively knocking the inebriated man out. Safe in the knowledge that he wouldn't remember their encounter in the morning, Dean dragged him roughly into the elderly chair.

As he turned to go to his room, he noticed a meek, withered figure standing in one of the doorways. His mother's wide, ever fearful eyes watched him from behind her dull, blond bangs. Anger swelled within Dean and, unable to stand another moment in her passive presence, he left the apartment again.

For a while he just stomped through the deserted streets and allowed the night air to cool his heated skin and temper. He never parked the Impala by his house, as it was much too valuable to leave unattended in the rough neighbourhood.

So he walked, and eventually Dean found himself outside of _Winchester's Repairs and Maintenance._ Uncertainty had replaced his earlier fury and the teenager began to wonder exactly where to go for the night.

Of course he could always sleep in the Impala, he had on more than one occasion when his old man got in a drunken mood. Yet a bed was what he really craved and despite his new progress with Castiel, he doubted he'd be welcomed in such an upscale part of town. Truth be told, it kind of made him uncomfortable anyways.

John Winchester had always been kind to him and treated him with a respect that was so rare in this more high-end community. Dean hated charity and the idea of asking for help practically made him sick, but he was too tired to really muster up any indignation.

Taking a deep breath, squaring his shoulders and forgoing his pride, Dean walked up to the apartment attached to the shop and knocked.

After a moment, a light came on and the sounds of someone moving around inside could be heard. Dean had the briefest of moments to reconsider his decision and make a dash for it when the large door was opened.

"Dean," John frowned, thoroughly confused and wrapped in his patterned bathrobe. "It's nearly one in the morning."

_Shit_.

He winced and realized he hadn't really considered the late- or early- hour he had decided to break his streak and ask for shelter. Of course it was really too late to back out now…

"I'm sorry Mr. Winchester," Dean said, shifting from foot to foot. "I really didn't mean to disturb you, it's just…" he gulped, "I have no where to stay tonight and I- shit I mean, if you could spare-"

"You need a place to crash?"

Dean nodded.

John smiled at him and motioned for his employee to enter. "It's OK Dean, I don't mind. You are my favourite employee after all," he winked good-naturedly.

He allowed a shaky laugh to escape him, feeling a little weak from relief at not being rejected. "I'm your only employee Mr. Winchester, I'd be worried if I weren't the favourite." Dean entered the living room and noticed a couple of boxes still left unopened from their recent move.

The mechanic chuckled and exited the room briefly, returning with an armful of sheets and a pillow. "I'm sorry I don't have a bed to offer you," he said as if embarrassed by the small space. "But the couch is always open."

"Thank you," Dean smiled, trying to convey his gratitude in those two little words. There was a sort of understanding in the man's eyes that led him to believe it was a message received.

After settling the teenager in, John returned to his room and left Dean alone in the strange apartment. As he huddled himself under the layer of cloth, Dean allowed one tear to roll down his cheek before sleep claimed him.

* * *

><p>Sam stifled a yawn as he exited his still slightly barren room, running a hand through long shaggy bangs.<p>

The giant went to the kitchen as per usual to start making his daily shake, taking time to remember the last whispers of his dream. Just as he was throwing some fruit into the blender however, he noticed something felt off. Years of bullying had given him instincts such as these and he quickly whirled around to face his opponent.

All Sam was met with however was a very sleepy Dean who looked rather confused about why he was being attacked with a blender this early in the morning.

"Dude, chill out," the blond said, yawning. "What time is it?"

Sam blinked. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Oh yeah, about that," Dean rubbed his neck, looking sheepish, "I kind of needed a place to crash so your dad helped me out."

Sam blinked again. "Uh," he stalled, unable to think of a response to that. "Protein shake?"

Dean snorted, obviously unimpressed by the other boy's daily diet. "No thanks, I'm not really in to the whole 'healthy' thing," he said, putting air quotes around the word healthy, which Sam could only roll his eyes at. "Got any pie?"

"Pie! It's nine in the morning!"

"It's got fruit in it," he defended with a frown.

Sam blanched, "And enough calories to give you a blocked artery before you're thirty."

"So? People will still love me."

"Even when you're fat?" the taller boy smirked.

Dean scowled, "Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Boys!" John said from the doorway, causing both teens to spin around. "I see we're getting along this morning," he smiled, having listened in to their playful banter.

Sam grinned, "Yeah- that is, if he doesn't topple over from over pie consumption."

"If I were to teach you one thing in this world Sammy-"

"Don't call me Sammy."

"- It's that there is no such thing as 'too much pie,'" Dean continued as if the other boy hadn't spoken.

"I see the air quotations are back full force," Sam said, rolling his eyes.

"'Why yes, yes they are'" Dean replied, putting dramatic quotations on every word just to bug the younger teen.

John chuckled and began making coffee. Strangely, having Dean in the house felt almost natural. He had been expected breakfast to be an awkward event but the three men seemed to get along quite well and were soon laughing like they'd known each other for years. It was comfortable and John was suddenly glad he'd allowed Smith into his home. Though it did beg the question- why did he need to?

"So Dean," John addressed him, gazing at the blond over his large cup of coffee. "Why exactly did you need a place to stay?"

Immediately the air in the room seemed to change and Dean tensed his shoulders, a mask falling down to cover his emotions. Carefully, he replied, "I got in a fight with my folks Sir, I'm sure we've both cooled off now."

The two Winchester's shared a look, both not buying that this was the full story but unwilling to press the secretive boy in front of them.

John nodded anyways, "Well you're more than welcome anytime you need a place to stay. Our home is your home."

"Yeah," Sam smiled.

Dean felt a warmth squeezing his heart as he took in these two men who barely knew him yet who were willing to give him both food and shelter. Their kindness wasn't something Dean was used to so he ducked his head and said a small, gruff thank you. He was unsure exactly how to express the depth of his gratitude and hoped the two meagre words would suffice.

"Well I have to get to the shop, can't believe I slept in so late. You two can clear the table," John informed him as he stretched and left to get ready for work.

Sam groaned at the chore but with four hands working, it didn't take so long.

* * *

><p>It was late afternoon now and Gabriel was lying on his bed with a lollipop lodged in his mouth, several other pieces of candy littering his floor. His phone buzzed in his hands and he quickly opened up the message.<p>

**Gabriel you'll never guess! I just found a penny from the thirties! Imagine the history this little guy has… :D - Sam**

The trickster chuckled, thinking about how funny it must be to see this gigantic man gawking at such a small penny. He probably just stopped in the middle of the street to ogle the little piece of copper.

He shook his head and typed, **Sammy, you are such a dork :P Luckily you make it work, though I'm not sure how… - Gabriel**

**You love me and you know it XD - Sam**

Gabriel was still grinning and about to type out a reply when his phone buzzed again, startling him with another text message.

**Hey hot stuff, are you going to Ernie's party? – Crowley**

His smile faltered a little, it was _Ed and Harry's_ party. He was surprised the model hadn't even taken the time to learn the two guys' names.

**You mean Ed and Harry? I don't know if my brother's will let me but I really want to go so I'll try. –Gabriel**

The response came a moment later and made him blush.

**Good 'cause I'm not going to bother unless you'll be there ) –Crowley**

Putting away his phone, Gabriel stared up at the white ceiling of his room and wondered exactly what he was doing.

* * *

><p><strong>All right, a couple more diversions from the original story line again so I hope you like them! Of course this is still primarily a romancehumour story but I just felt like the characters deserved a little more background than what they were given in the movie. I'm a little nervous about what everyone thought though so please review and tell me! I need peace of mind!**

**To anyone who was wondering by the way, James S. and John W. are actually the two sides of John Winchester that I see most commonly portrayed- the loving father and the abusive drunk. I thought I'd feature them both in this story.**

**Again sorry that this is late, there is no excuse. However, I am currently working on the next chapter so hopefully it should be up soon. In the mean time though… please review! I would really appreciate it and it makes me write faster ;) The party's next and certain… developments will be made there if that's incentive for you to write a review XD**

**~MesserMessa~**


	7. The Party: Part 1

**Ha ha! I am alive! And the worst author ever, I'm seriously sorry for leaving everyone waiting so long but this scene has been terrible to write. I'm not even finished it! Hence, the part 1 in the title. I'm hoping maybe a couple of reviews will inspire me to get back on track so feel free to review and tell me what you think, if you like it or hate it or just want to berate me for taking so long. Also, I've been working on a new story "Gabriel's Cafe and Bakeshop" (also Destiel) so please check it out! I'm kind of enjoying it so far so I'd love some support :)**

**Oh and recap because I've been away so long: Sam has convinced Dean (unrelated) to take out Castiel so he can date Cas' younger brother Gabriel. Unfortunatly, he doesn't realize that Gabriel really just wants to date Crowley, who was tricked by Sam into paying Dean to actually date Cas. Last chapter, Dean asked Cas to go to Ed and Harry's party with him and Cas didn't say yes or no (which is a yes in Dean language).**

**And now, on to the story!**

The Party: Part 1

This was all about stealth.

Gabriel knew that, which is why he and Ruby were currently tiptoeing towards the door to freedom. Michael had his back turned to them and was flipping through a newspaper and inside the kitchen there was the banging and cursing that occurred whenever Raphael tried to cook something. Neither was aware, however, of how close Gabriel was to his liberation.

"Should have used the window," Michael suddenly called from his seat, turning another page. The youngest brother stubbed his toe in surprise and swore loudly.

"And you should watch your mouth," Raphael added, coming out of the kitchen with a dishtowel over his shoulder. "It's not polite," he smirked.

Gabriel scowled and tried to ignore the throbbing in his foot.

"Now where exactly were you two going?" Michael asked with a raised eyebrow as he went to stand next to his brother.

"Uh," he said, praying to the gods of deception, "just a small gathering with some friends to study. Very tame."

Michael and Raphael glanced at Ruby's slinky party dress and Gabriel's tight fitting pants before they shared a rather knowing look between the two.

"Oh no," Raphael said, "you are not going to go out to some crack house orgy session, I don't care how hip their hop is."

"Mr. Novak, it's just a party," Ruby said.

Michael crossed his arms. "And Hell is just a sauna."

The two older brothers's suddenly caught sight of Castiel walking into the kitchen and hailed him down. "Did you know about this?" Michael asked.

Castiel shrugged and continued on his way.

"You can't keep treating me like a child!" Gabriel exclaimed.

"We can and we will. Father left us in charge," Raphael stated. "If Cassie's not going, then you're not going."

Gabriel wheeled around to surprise his brother as he came out of the kitchen with a glass of water. "Castiel please! Can't you just be normal for one night."

"Define normal," the senior said, raising an eyebrow as he calmly took a sip of water.

"Parties are normal, friends and relationships. Having fun! Damn it, even the Ghost Facers socialize!"

The two older brothers frowned. "What the hell is a 'Ghost Facer'," Michael turned and asked Ruby.

She opened her overly glossed lips to reply but Castiel interrupted with his reply.

"It's a den of iniquity designed for young adults with a surplus of hormones to be able to rub up against each other in hopes of getting release as they are too emotionally unstable to meet the deeper needs of a relationship," Cas replied, surprised when Ruby and Gabriel chimed in for the last half like a well rehearsed chorus.

"Yeah, we know," the brunette said with a roll of her eyes.

Gabriel grabbed his brother's arm and pulled him away from where Ruby was now explaining the Ghost Facers to an insistent Michael.

"Please Cassie," he said, his brown eyes widening. "Come on, please do this for me. Please."

Castiel knew this was a bad idea but he always hated feeling distant from his family, like he had been feeling of late. And if this was the way to reconnect with his younger brother, then he would do it.

"Fine, I suppose I could make an appearance," he finally sighed.

Gabriel searched his eyes for trickery before breaking out into a large smile. He pumped his fist and hugged his brother. Ruby soon joined as both Raphael and Michael watched with horrified expressions.

"It's starting," Raphael whispered and Michael nodded with a dazed look.

Finally Michael seemed to snap out of his momentary loss of brain function and came bustling up to the three of them with a stern expression on his face. Raphael went to stand next to his brother.

"Alright, if you're attending then we're going lay down some basic ground rules," the elder said, "No boys, no drinking."

"No smoking," Raphael chimed in.

"No drugs."

"No flashing."

"No orgies."

"No homemade porno"

"No misuse of whip cream."

"No ritual animal slaughter of any kind."

Michael clutched his chest, "Oh God, we're giving them ideas."

Castiel, for his part, was nodding along as he pulled on his trench coat. There was a knocking at the door and he reached to open it.

"Dean, what are you doing here," he asked in surprise, stunned that the suave stud was serious.

"Nine right?" he asked, hands jammed in his jean pockets. He shrugged, "I'm early."

Castiel tried to hide his smile, "Whatever, you're driving my brother and his friend."

The four rushed out of the house even as Raphael began screaming at Michael, "They broke Rule Number One Mike! They've already broken Rule Number One!"

* * *

><p>Sam flicked his bangs out of his face. Then pulled them back over. Out. Over. Out. Over.<p>

"Dude, how should I do my hair?" the giant finally asked, looking at Chuck through the mirror they both stood in front of. "Out or Over?"

"What are you talking about? Your hair? Stop being so self absorbed and tell me how _I_ look," the writer said in a rush, trying desperately to knot the tie around his neck. "What do you think, is the tie to much?"

"Uh yeah."

Chuck stilled for a moment to glare at the offending garment before tugging it off. "You're right. I'm just so nervous you know," the writer babbled and picked up a comb. "The last time I was at a party was in second grade at Chuck-e-Cheese."

Sam shot him a disbelieving look.

"If you want a good time, now that's a good time," he continued, choking out a laugh as he picked up a hair dryer and turned it on.

Sam was still questioning his friendship with the quirky writer.

* * *

><p>"Maggie get out of my house now! My friends are all here," Ed yelled, his hands sweeping towards the small group in the living room as a demonstration.<p>

The shorter girl crossed her arms. "I'm your sister Ed."

"My _adopted _sister."

Before she could retort, her brother's best friend Harry stood up from the couch he had been sitting at and said, "Hey! I, uh, think adoptions are cool. Especially Asian adoption! 'Cause you know, they're so cute. Not that I'm saying your sister's cute Ed! Pssht, gross."

Maggie raised an eyebrow.

"Er, I mean you're very attractive, in a completely platonic, non-romantic, I-don't-want-to-nail-my-best-friend's-sister kind of way."

The two Zeddmore's were now staring at the boy with mixed expressions of anger, confusion and nauseated befuddlement.

Face burning, Harry finally decided to just cut his losses and sit down.

"Alright then," Ed said. "This is 67th weekly meeting of the Ghost Facers."

"GHOST FACERS," the group hollered as Maggie rolled her eyes.

The leader opened his mouth to continue but just then the doorbell rang. "Ooh, must be Corbette with the snacks," he grinned.

"Dude," Harry said, standing up to walk with his best friend to the door. "You do realize that guy is totally in love with you right?"

Ed shook his head, "Nah, he's just some poor, confused intern."

"Whatever you say man," grumbled the co-leader. And if you were noticing the _co _in front of _leader_ in Harry's name… the titles were completely mutual.

Suddenly there was a loud bang at the door and it opened to dozens of already partly drunk teenagers running into the foyer.

Ed and Harry, through their daze, could distantly hear Corbette yelling, "Ed! Ed! Help! They're eating the hors d'oeurves!"

* * *

><p>When the quartet arrived at Ed Zeddmore's house, part was excited and the other was extremely wary.<p>

Castiel entered the bubble of cigarette fumes and blaring music with a ramrod posture, looking around with absolute mistrust in his eyes. He recognized most of the partiers from various grades at his school and it was not a sight he was keen to remember. Almost immediately, Gabriel and Ruby disappeared into the crowds of dancing, bobbing and drinking teens.

"Dean," Castiel near whispered, eyes wide.

"Yeah?"

"This is a bad place."

The blond huffed a laugh and resisted the urge to put his arm around the frightened boy because he knew that wouldn't go over too well.

"How so?" he asked instead.

Someone bumped into Castiel and pushed him a little closer to Dean. Again he stopped himself before he leant in to touch the brunette.

"It's a den of iniquity," the blue-eyed teen continued, "I shouldn't be here."

Dean shrugged, "then we'll leave."

"Not without Gabriel."

Dean was about to reply when a loud, accented voice sounded beside them.

"Looking sharp there Cassie," Crowley said, suddenly standing in front of the two of them with an obnoxious smirk on his face. He stared pointedly at the trench coat, "are you going to give us a show?"

Castiel frowned. "I don't understand what reference you're trying to convey."

"Just piss off," Dean growled, feeling angry and guilty at the sight of Crowley.

The Brit for his part just raised an eyebrow. His eyes swept over both of them, calculating. Finally his face cleared and he smiled. "So, care to tell me where your brother is?"

"Stay away from my brother," Castiel snapped, his posture suddenly aggressive. Dean put a restraining hand on his shoulder but he shook it off.

A sly expression settled onto his features, "Fine, but I can't guarantee he'll stay away from me."

"Crowley!" Gabriel called and emerged from the crowd. The Brit grinned and threw his arm around the short trickster.

"How are you gorgeous?" he asked, winking at Castiel as he tried to steer the younger teen away from them.

The Novak grabbed onto his brother's arm and said, "Wait Gabe!"

"Please do not address me in public," he hissed, clearly surprised that Castiel even made the attempt.

"I need to talk to you."

"No. Go enjoy the party Cassie," Gabriel told him, his eyes harder than Castiel had ever seen them.

Crowley waved at them before disappearing again in the crowd. When a teen walked by carrying shot glasses on a tray, Castiel didn't think twice before grabbing one and downing it in one gulp.

"Right on brother!" the makeshift waiter exclaimed and handed him another one.

"What was that?" Dean questioned.

Castiel drank the next shot of alcohol and levelled the rebel with an empty gaze. "What? Isn't that what you're supposed to do at parties? Get trashed?"

"I don't know. I say, do what you want to do."

"Funny, you're the only one," Castiel said, already walking away in search of more shots.

Someone bumped into Dean and before he knew it, the dark haired teen was lost from his sight. "Cas!" he called to no avail.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the house, Sam was manoeuvring his lanky, six-foot frame through the crowds, attempting to find Gabriel, Chuck or Dean.

Eventually he located his writer, who was yelling at the back of a retreating blond.

"It's the highest selling graphic novel in the school you know!"

"Dude, isn't it the only graphic novel the school sells?" Sam asked, holding a plastic cup of what he hoped was not spiked coke.

Chuck shrugged his shoulders and grinned, "Yeah, but the chicks don't know that!"

Rolling his eyes, Sam turned his attention to the problem he had at hand. "Have you seen Gabriel around here? Dean texted me and said he was coming."

"Why don't you just go out with Dean and save yourself all this trouble?" Chuck asked incredulous.

For whatever reason, that made Sam wrinkle his nose. "Ew man, just no. The guy's good looking and all but he kind of reminds me of the brother I never had/wanted."

"Alright, well if you're looking for Gabriel then I'd suggest following the love," the writer said, pointing towards the hazy staircase where couples were either heading up with lustful expressions or heading down with blissful ones.

Sam thanked him and began fighting his way through the crowd to approach the steps just as he saw Gabriel, Ruby and Crowley descending them.

"Gabriel," he called, waving his hand to catch the trickster's attention.

Said boy's head snapped up in surprise and a soft smile curved his lips when he saw it was Sam. Then Crowley put a heavy arm across his shoulders and the brunette began to look uncomfortable.

"Uh, hey Sam," Gabriel greeted. "Do you remember Ruby?"

Sam's eyes finally flickered away from where he had been glaring at Crowley's arm to take in the scantily dressed girl. "Oh yeah, I think we have art together."

"Neat," Ruby said, rolling her eyes.

"So are you enjoying the party?" Sam asked Gabriel.

Crowley cut in, "Yes we are. Now why don't you go scamper off new kid."

Sam opened his mouth to retort but was interrupted by the trickster, who said apologetically, "Yeah, I'm sorry Sam. I have to go." He lowered his amber eyes and refused to meet the taller boy's searching gaze.

The trio turned to walk away but the giant wasn't one to just give up so he grabbed onto Gabriel's arm. Crowley immediately faced him to claim his territory but at Gabriel's dismissive wave, he reluctantly struck up a conversation with Ruby and a few other of his admirers.

"I thought we were going to go to this party together?" Sam asked him in a hushed tone, still holding on to the boy's arm.

Gabriel looked pained and it was the first time Sam had ever seen him wearing such an expression. "No Sam, I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head, "This is it, this is my shot."

"I don't understand," Sam said, loosening his grip.

"You get one shot in high school, one chance to get it all right. And I don't want to leave with regrets Sam. I want so badly for it to be perfect."

"And this is perfect?" Sam snorted, gesturing towards where Crowley was already laughing loudly and sidling up to skanky girl.

Gabriel looked tired. "It's what I've always wanted; friends, maybe a boyfriend, popularity. To be on top of the world."

"But you're not even happy!" Sam exclaimed in frustration. "I've seen what you look like when you're happy Gabriel and it's beautiful. But it isn't right now."

He shook his head, "Please Sam. I like you. And if you like me half as much as you say you do, then you'll let me take my shot."

"So that's it then? It was always Crowley?"

Gabriel gave him a hopeless look.

"Fine," Sam nodded, "I hope you get everything you wanted."

And he walked away, Gabriel gazing after him as if he was carrying the secret to happiness away with him. He had a brief moment in which he almost decided to go after him before Crowley came crowding backing into his space. Fake smile back in place, Gabriel tried to at least pretend like he was enjoying himself.

At the same time, Cas had thrown all of his inhibitions and ambitions away. Now seriously drunk, he was nursing another beer with a forlorn look on his face. Dean, having just spotted the man, rushed over to him.

"Where have you been!" the out of breath blond demanded. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

Cas shrugged, "Getting drunk."

"Is this about Crowley? You know he was just trying to get under your skin right?" Dean asked as he sat down next to him.

Two piercing blue eyes glared at him and he abruptly stood up. He swayed a little upon the sudden elevation but swatted away Dean's hand when he tried to help steady him.

"Don't pretend to know me Smith," his gravely voice sounding slurred. "You know nothing about me or Gabriel or Crowley. You can't just walk into my life and pretend to care. No one does."

"Cas," Dean breathed, his expression pained.

"No! Don't 'Cas' me with your stupid green eyes and stupid pink lips and your stupid tan. You don't know anything about me."

"I know you don't want to be here," Dean offered, "Come on. Let's leave."

Castiel pushed his hand away and grabbed another shot off of a nearby table. "But it's a party Dean!" he said dryly, "And I looooooove to party!"

His blue eyes suddenly spotted the table in the dining room and they lit up viciously, "In fact, I'll show you how _much_ I love to party."

And before Dean could stop him, the smaller boy had already darted across the room to get up on the table and begin to dance. People immediately began crowding around the piece of furniture, catcalling and whistling. His moves at the club did not compare to what he was doing now. It was unsteady and obscene and it made Dean sick to see how such a composed person could feel so bad as to stoop this low. Crowley, having spotted this particular show, immediately ditched Gabriel to go and watch his brother dance.

Dean hovered at the edge of the table until the inevitable happened and Castiel hit his head on the metal chandelier hanging above him. The slighter boy dropped fast and heavy into Deans outstretched arms. "Come on Cas, let's get out of here," he whispered to the fallen boy and began fighting his way out of the crowd and into the relative peace of the outside.

* * *

><p><strong>REVIEW! I shall love you forever if you do XD<strong>

**-MesserMessa**


	8. The Party: Part 2

The Party Part 2

Once they were outside of the house and into fresher air, Dean sat Cas down on one of the window ledges. The boy's head was lolling back and his eyes were half closed so Dean patted his cheek non-too gently in order to get his attention.

"Cas? Cas? You with me Cas?" he asked, feeling a little frantic.

Finally, he responded with his trademark piercing glare. "Whaddyawant?"

"I have to make sure you stay awake, you could have a concussion from that chandelier you hit."

"But I wanna sleep Deeaaan!"

"Cas…" he said in a warning voice.

The brunet pouted (adorably) and waved his limp hand, "Fine, fine Smith."

Dean sighed with relief and heard another voice calling out to him.

"Dean? Dean! We have to talk," Sam said as he strode over with a sour expression.

The blond shook his head, "Little busy here Sammy."

"Can't you just give me a minute?"

Dean, hearing the sharp tone to the other boy's voice, stood up to face him. They walked a few steps away with the blond casting several worried glances back at the dozing, drunken teen behind him.

"So what's this about?" he finally asked.

"It's off."

"What?"

"The deal, it's off. He never liked me. It was Crowley he was after all along."

Dean rubbed his face, feeling anxious to get back to Cas. "Look, do you like this boy?"

"I- yeah, I really do."

"Yeah, then is he worth all this trouble?" he asked with a hard expression.

"Well I thought he was but-" Sam started before Dean interrupted.

"Either he is or he isn't."

"I, uh…"

"Look Sammy-" Dean started.

"Not Sammy."

"First of all," Dean ploughed on, "Crowley's not half the man that you are and I'm not just saying that height wise. And don't let anyone let you feel like you don't deserve what you want. You should go for it."

Sam turned away, his face clouded by deeper thought. "Thanks Dean," he finally said before his expression cleared and he grinned, "Just wait till it gets out that you're all soft and giving love advice."

Dean tried to manage a glare but he was secretly glad that he was able to help the teen with his dilemma. What could he say; the kid was growing on him. "Bitch," he shot back.

"Jerk," Sam replied without thinking and the two boys grinned at each other before Dean patted him on the back and turned back to Castiel

"Come on," Dean said as he snaked his arm around the boy's waist, "Let's get you out of here."

* * *

><p>Gabriel was feeling lost looking around at all of the drunken partygoers. He had never felt so alone in a crowded room before.<p>

A boy from his math class just went crashing through a window and there were several teens he recognized trying out and breaking various Ghost Facers equipment, much to the dismay of the actual group members. Gabriel spotted Crowley finally and felt his heart leap until he realized that he was actually locking lips with someone.

And that someone was his good friend Ruby.

"Bitch," he muttered, feeling tears threaten. He had liked Crowley so much and had genuinely thought that the boy liked him too. If the way he was groping Ruby's ass was any indicator though, Gabriel had obviously, horrendously miscalculated. His heart hurt but more than anything, he felt embarrassed for how wrong he had been, how foolish. There was also a large portion of this emotional whirlwind he was feeling that was compromised of enormous guilt. He deserved every hurt he was feeling, if only for how he had treated Sam since he had met him.

As if summoned by his thoughts, the hulking gargantuan suddenly appeared in the doorframe across the room, his expressive brown eyes practically boring into his own. Sam's gaze shifted to where Crowley was making out and Gabe could imagine his thoughts running along the path of 'I told you so, you wouldn't listen but I told you so.'

All of the emotions suddenly fully caught up with Gabriel and he had to wipe his watering eyes and hurry from the room. If he was going to start sobbing like a baby then he wanted to do it in private, away from the accusing eyes of Sam. Damn that Winchester! Damn Crowley and Ruby! Damn them all for finally getting the best of a Trickster, something he had long ago sworn would never happen yet knew that he deserved.

* * *

><p>Outside of the house, Dean had finally succeeded in leading Castiel some distance away from the loud music and laughter of the party, towards a deserted playground atop of a green hill.<p>

The drunken boy stumbled and Dean was quick to grab hold of his arm before it was yanked from his fingers.

"I don't think so," Castiel said in that deep voice of his, "I am an angel of the Lord!"

Dean watched the other teen with an amused smile, keeping his hands out and ready in case he should fall. "Really?" he asked, "I wasn't aware that the Lord's angels were allowed to get drunk off their feathery asses."

"Angels are warriors Dean," Castiel glared. "And they can't get inebriated… not easily anyways."

"Well then you must have drunk a lot because you are most definitely wasted."

"Indubitably."

The blond sighed, "Trust you to bring out the big words after drinking that much… Hey Cas! Be careful!"

The boy had stumbled once they reached the sand pit that surrounded the swing set, almost falling on his holy angel ass. Castiel shakily walked over and sat down on one of the swings, flicking some dark hair out of his flushed face. "Pssh, you don't care if I get hurt or if I never wake up," he said in a surprisingly serious tone.

"Sure I do," Dean said as he sat down on the swing next to his, "Then I'd have to go after boys who actually like me."

"Like you could find one."

The teen snapped his fingers, "You see right there: why would I want love and affection when I could have blind hatred?"

Castiel actually chuckled at that; a sound that Dean had never heard fully before and it amazed him. His laugh was deep and round and rumbled in the best of ways.

"So why'd you let him get to you?" Dean asked.

"Who?"

"Crowley."

"I hate him."

"I suppose you picked the perfect revenge, drinking all of the tequila," Dean joked, glad to hear Cas chuckle again at the comment.

"Well you know what they say," Castiel slurred.

"No, what do they say?"

Dean waited for a response and glanced at the other boy when he didn't continue. Cas had fallen asleep and his head was flopping sideways to rest on the swings metal chains. Immediately, Dean leapt from his place and began frantically patting Castiel's flushed cheeks.

"Castiel? Cas? Cas! You with me? Come on buddy, open your eyes!"

Finally, those too blue irises were revealed as Castiel lazily blinked his eyes open. He gazed up wonderingly and Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hey," Castiel's voice rasped, "Your eyes are really green."

Dean's heart gave an unexpected flip when the dark haired boy reached up to gently touch Dean's cheek. He smiled and the two seemed to share a moment, each slowly gravitating towards each other. Those green eyes flickered down to Castiel's pink, dry lips.

Then a sour look washed over Castiel's face and he leaned over to hurl. Dean, feeling as though the 'moment' was now sufficiently ruined, rubbed the boy's back as he continued to puke.

"It's OK Cas," he murmured, "Even an angel of the Lord's gotta blow chunks every once and a while."

The only response Dean got was the finger, which made him laugh heartily despite the situation.

* * *

><p>White-hot anger was really the only thing that Sam could feel when he saw Crowley with Ruby. There was anger towards them and towards Gabriel, although that had already started to lose its edge when he saw the trickster's usually smiling face crumpled up in pain and regret.<p>

Despite his urge to punch Crowley in the gut, Sam was really a pacifist at heart and went to follow where Gabriel had run off to. It didn't take long for his large strides to overtake the Trickster's and he found him outside walking down the driveway.

"Gabriel, wait!" Sam called to his retreating back and the boy immediately froze.

"What do you want Winchester?" he asked in a broken voice.

Sam flinched. Last names were bad. "Where are you going?"

"Home."

"How are you going to get there?"

Gabriel's shoulders slumped, "I guess I'll walk, I don't know where Castiel or Dean is."

Now Sam hesitated. True, he was still angry with Gabriel for his actions but did that really warrant him getting mugged, raped or killed on the long, dark walk home. The thought of anything happening to the smaller boy still made Sam feel nauseated. Decision reached, he called out, "How about you let me drive you home then."

Finally, Gabriel turned around to look at his supposed saviour. His eyes were cold and suspicious, raking over Sam as if trying to look for ulterior motives hidden away. Whatever the boy saw, it must have appeased him because he reluctantly nodded.

"Thank you Sam," he said quietly and avoided looking into the other boy's eyes. "I- I really appreciate it."

Sam nodded and motioned for the teen to follow him to his car while he discreetly pulled his phone out to text Chuck.

**Sam: Find your own way home dude, I'm taking Gabriel home.**

**Chuck: Aww man… ditched so you can get laid. Hope you brought a condom :P**

Sam had brought a condom and lube stashed away in his jackets inner pockets just in case. It had really been at Dean's prodding that he had bothered at all because he knew he wouldn't have gone that far on some party hook up. Still, there was a large part of Sam that could only think 'if only I had a use for it.'

* * *

><p>Dean had some how managed to manoeuvre the still very much intoxicated 'Angel of the Lord' into the front seat of his Impala. He had driven Gabriel and Ruby here but he had no means of contacting them, unless he wanted to go fishing in Castiel's pants pockets for his phone. Once upon a time Dean would have just used that as a way to grope some ass but he knew that he couldn't take advantage of Cas like that now.<p>

Praying to whatever god was out there that the other boy wouldn't puke in his car; he went around to the driver's side and sat down. Before starting the car, he checked his phone to find one missed text.

**Sam: Taking Gabriel home, you crashing at my place again?**

Dean sighed. He was happy that something seemed to be going right for Sam but he had his own problems to worry about. Plus he didn't want to continue to abuse the Winchester's kindness night after night. It would be better if he just went back to the Smith home after he dropped of Castiel. Dean put away his phone without replying.

"Come on baby," he said to the Impala, patting the dashboard, "Let's get feathers over here home."

"Dean, you do realize your car is an inanimate object and is therefore unable to understand or respond to you?"

Dean shook his head and grumbled, "no one has the right to be that articulate when they're completely trashed."

The piercing glare Castiel sent his way was somehow minimized by his crazy hair and rumpled clothes so it really only made Dean grin.

They drove home in near silence, with Metallica playing at an uncharacteristically low level. Dean was thinking over the night and his predicament as he nodded along to the music, realizing that he was really starting to care about people again. Then Castiel spoke, "I feel the same way sometimes."

The blond boy glanced over and questioned, "Same way?"

"As this song," he gestured to the tape player. "I don't listen to Metallica really but I sort of get this. Sometimes I feel like I'm 'following a God that failed.'"

"What do you mean?" Dean frowned.

"My dad. He just sort of up and left us nearly ten years ago. That why my older brothers Michael and Raphael take care of us now, even though Michael was only nineteen when he left." Castiel wasn't looking at Dean, instead he was gazing out the window as the world passed by.

The roughened boy wasn't very good at talking about feelings and such but figured it was worth a shot to learn more about the enigmatic Castiel.

"Do you know why he left?

"My mom died a few years before that. Maybe he was depressed because of that. I don't know… I don't have many memories of him, except that he was devoutly religious. I don't want to question God but… I just don't understand how He could have let all that happen. I don't even know if my own father is still alive right now," Castiel spoke with tears clearly in his voice. Without thought Dean reached an arm over and gripped the boy's knee in a reassuring manner.

Dean gave him a moment to compose himself again, wiping the tears away and sniffling. Then he asked quietly, hoping he wasn't overstepping boundaries, "Is that… is that why you close yourself off so much at school?"

Castiel barked out an insincere laugh. "Haven't you heard? Most people just think I'm weird and scary."

"You're not scary."

"But I'm weird?" Castiel prompted with a raised eyebrow.

Dean smirked and kept his eyes on the road.

"Hey!" Cas huffed.

"Aw come on," Dean laughed, "You're the only one I know who uses such proper language all the time and reads those massive books for fun."

"It's called being articulate and intellectual."

"Or wordy and nerdy. See that even kind of rhymes," Dean grinned.

"Ha hah, well you're no picnic yourself Mr. Smith. I just can't… understand you," he said sounding frustrated. "You're always talking to me instead of Gabriel or something."

"Oh yeah, Gabriel," Dean said with an incredulous voice. "No offence to your brother, I know everyone digs him and all but… he's without."

At those words, Castiel finally turned fully to look Dean in the eyes as the car was carefully parked outside the house. "You know, you're not as vile as I thought you were," he commented softly.

Dean chuckled and met his gaze, "I suppose I'll take that as a compliment then."

Looking into the green of his eyes and feeling the liquid courage still running through his veins, Cas began to lean in closer. He closed his eyes as he felt Dean's warm breath ghosting over his face, just waiting for the reciprocation.

Dean, however, knew exactly what was happening and was feeling extremely conflicted. Castiel wanted comfort, which was why he was going for kiss even after all of the resistance he had been putting up. Normally Dean would have jumped at the chance to get into a hot person's pants but something wasn't sitting right with him. Cas was still partly drunk and feeling vulnerable from their emotional talk in the car. For some reason, Dean couldn't take advantage when he used to have no qualms before.

He pulled away from the dark haired boy and cleared his throat. "We should do this again sometime," he spoke in an awkward, stilted manner. He couldn't look at Castiel or he was sure to throw his newfound morals to the wind and kiss him breathless right then and there.

Castiel opened his eyes, hurt and anger blatant in their blue depths. Without another word, he got out of the Impala and slammed the door shut. Dean would normally have objected to the rough treatment of his baby but right now he was feeling curiously empty.

He watched Castiel storm up the steps to his large suburban house before igniting the engine and peeling away. He felt guilt and anger build up inside because he had be3en the cause of Castiel's hurt. Dean couldn't do anything right and now he had to return to the hovel of an apartment his parents kept.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Sam was now parked outside of the Novaks home in his own, much more rusted, car. Gabriel sat silently beside him.<p>

"You never wanted to go sailing with me, did you? Or eat French food or go to parties. It was always Crowley," he said quietly, sadly.

"Sam…"

"It's just," Sam broke off, his face twisted into an expression of hurt. "I really liked you. I really, really did. I defended you when people called you immature and conceited; I planned everything to get you freedom. I- just how selfish can you be?"

"I don't know, " Gabriel whispered, "I've always been this way."

"I didn't even know French! I learned it just for you and-"

Before he could finish though, Gabriel had grabbed his face and tugged it down to a more appropriate height before pressing a sincere kiss to his lips. Sam made a muffled noise of surprise but quickly moved his lips against the Trickster, bringing him a little closer. When the two finally broke apart, Sam was grinning and Gabriel was giving him a shy smile. "Thank you," he whispered against Sam's lips. Then he turned and got out of the car, waving as he walked up the steps to his house.

Sam laughed and grinned, hitting the steering wheel with a spirited, "And I'm back in the game!"

* * *

><p><strong>Hope you enjoyed! Review please :D<strong>


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